The Untold War
by er121876
Summary: As Harry Potter and his friends hunt England for Horcruxes, Neville Longbottom is left waging his own war against a tougher Hogwarts and its new Headmaster, with only a select few to help him.  This is the battle of Hogwarts you didn't get to see.
1. Chapter 1: Journey to Darkness

**THE UNTOLD WAR**

**Chapter One: The Journey to Darkness**

Harry had not come back.

It didn't surprise Neville really; he supposed he hadn't for one moment actually expected him to return. But it was difficult not to hope, every time he poked his head into a carriage looking for spare seats, that he might see the heads of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger turning back to him.

He shuffled along the train in a kind of vacant melancholy, every so often jumping at snatches of conversations about Muggle-born students no one could seem to find. He passed a distressed Lavender Brown saying to Parvati, 'I don't think Dean's coming back, you know. Everyone knew he was Muggle-born, they'd never have let him back in...' Parvati was chewing her lip and staring at the floor, apparently at a loss for words.

It wasn't until Neville reached the very last carriage that he finally found not only space for one more, but also friends he could sit with – Ginny and Luna, both with Quibblers in front of them, Ginny's lain out in her lap and Luna's pressed up against her nose, hiding her face from view.

'Neville!' Ginny had leapt up at the sight of him. She gave him a hug that left him more breathless than usual. 'I was worried you wouldn't come – so many people have left...'

'I know,' he said. His voice sounded strangled, like he might cry. 'I heard some people talking; a lot of the Hufflepuffs have gone and by the sounds of things it'll be just me and Seamus in our dorm – if he's even come back, that is.'

'Wouldn't he?' Ginny asked, looking anxious. 'He's half-blood, isn't he?'

'Yeah, but you know Seamus.' He took the seat opposite the two girls and started rooting through his trunk. 'Have you seen this?'

Ginny leant forwards as he slapped an old copy of the _Prophet_ in front of her, then she settled back again with a dejected sigh.

'I know. Our new Headmaster,' she added bitterly. Staring unpleasantly back at them from the front page of the newspaper was the man who had taught them Potions for so many years, now master of the school in his own right. But it wasn't in his own right, Neville thought angrily. He had killed for that job.

'It's very bad, isn't it?' Luna piped up, making Neville jump; she had been so absorbed in her magazine he had assumed she wasn't listening. 'He could be a very nasty teacher sometimes, I'm not sure Headmaster is the best position for him.'

Despite everything, Neville found himself laughing. Luna's summaries were enough to lighten anyone's mood, even against the backdrop of Snape's new regime and a darker, deadlier Hogwarts.

'No, I don't think he'll be much nicer,' he agreed, giving her a light smile. He was about to ask what Luna's father's views were on the matter, but stopped as their carriage door was opened again and a stocky, dark-haired boy squeezed himself in. 'Seamus!'

It looked like Seamus was trying to appear enthusiastic at the sight of them, but all he managed to respond with was a low sigh.

'Hiya. Harry's not back, then?'

At the name, a resigned silence overcame them all. Ginny slumped even further back in her seat.

'He was at ours in the summer,' she said miserably. 'Then the Death Eaters came and... he just disappeared. No sign of any of them after the wedding.'

'I thought Harry's disguise was very good,' came Luna's input in her conversational tone.

'And _that_,' Seamus went on as though he hadn't heard them, tapping a finger smartly on Snape's overlarge nose, 'put me off me dinner right away. Couldn't believe it. Dad told me and I nearly tipped my plate over.' He sat down next to Neville, looking around at them all with a furrowed brow. 'Reckon Dean'll come back?' he asked Neville in a hushed tone. Neville shook his head and Seamus, it seemed, decided not to discuss it further.

It was the least desirable ride to Hogwarts Neville had ever experienced. Nobody seemed to know what to say, besides Luna, of course, who continued to come out with some gems for the rest of the journey. But after a while, even she wasn't enough to cheer Neville up. He and Seamus attempted a game of Exploding Snap before a wordless exchange told them neither was enjoying it. Ginny and Luna continued to read, or at least, Luna did, telling them exciting titbits about Nargles and Crumple-Horned Snorcacks when they least expected it, while Ginny sat staring at the same page of her magazine or occupying herself with gazing gloomily out of the window in silence. Neville felt as though he could hear cogs turning in her brain.

After what seemed like forever, the turrets of Hogwarts began to rise before them.

'It used to excite me, that,' muttered Ginny, taking out her school robes and beginning to put them on, not worrying about the two boys opposite her. 'You know – seeing Hogwarts for the first time. Every year I look out for it. Never thought I'd wish we weren't going back.'

'Put that ugly git away,' Seamus said to Neville, nodding at the newspaper that had slid to the floor about a mile back.

Neville stuffed it back in his trunk as the train ground to a halt.

Luna's doe eyes appeared from behind her magazine.

'Are we there?' she asked.

'Not yet,' said Seamus, looking bemused. 'Nearly, but they wouldn't stop this far down...'

There were squeals from the other end of the train. Ginny and Neville jumped up, wands immediately in their hands.

'What's going on?' Ginny said as their carriage door slid open once more and a tall Ministry wizard stepped through.

Luna and Seamus had gotten to their feet as well. Seamus had raised himself up to his full height, squaring up to the wizard, who glared back at them all under thick, bushy eyebrows.

'Names?' he said brusquely, taking out a clipboard.

'What's this for?' Neville said angrily, gripping his wand harder. 'We're all registered, we're all OK to come back!'

'You,' said the Ministry wizard, ignoring him and nodding instead to Luna, whose radish earrings, it seemed, did not faze him. 'What's your name, girl?'

'Lovegood.'

'Any relation to the Quibbler nutter?'

'His daughter,' Luna said dreamily, apparently unperturbed by the insult.

'Look,' Neville said fiercely, copying Seamus and thrusting his chest forward in a botched attempt to make himself look more impressive, '_he's not here_, all right? You really reckon Harry Potter's going to sidle on to the school train? He's got bigger fish to fry. Like getting rid of your boss, for one.'

The wizard's already narrow eyes became slits as he surveyed Neville. A derisive smirk was playing at his mouth. Ginny and Seamus were looking at their friend with shocked admiration.

'You're tough,' the wizard said quietly. 'That's good. The Dark Lord approves of tough wizards, even scrawny ones like you. What's your name?'

'Neville Longbottom.' The smirk deepened.

'Longbottom, hmm?' He tapped his clipboard and Neville and Luna's names both appeared there. 'I had the pleasure of meeting your parents, Neville. Not long before they lost their minds. In fact, I'd say it was... not that long before at all.' He gave Neville a distorted smile, showing crooked teeth. Neville's hands were shaking.

'You're sick,' Ginny spat, seemingly incapable of putting away her wand. It was near enough pointing directly at the Death Eater, whose smile widened.

'Pretty girl,' he leered, 'what's your name?'

'Weasley,' she said, drawing herself up and looking contemptuously back at him, 'and you can call me a blood traitor all you like, it's a lot better than what you are!'

'And what am I, little Miss Weasley?'

'Scum,' snapped Ginny. 'That's all you are. Dirty, filthy _scum_. And Harry Potter's not on this train so you might as well get off right now!' She sounded close to tears.

'You all seem to know a lot about where Potter is,' said the wizard, giving them each a scrutinising look. 'Maybe I should have you taken in for questioning...'

'Be better than Hogwarts,' muttered Seamus, before resigning to giving his own name as the wizard's malicious gaze snapped to him. 'And I'm a half-blood, before you start asking questions. Ministry's approved me.'

'Well,' the wizard said brusquely, waving his wand at the clipboard and making it disappear before their eyes, 'you all appear, as you put it, to be _Ministry-approved_. I will be warning the Headmaster to keep an eye on you, Longbottom.' He cast a mocking glance back at Neville as he turned to leave the carriage. 'Enjoy your school year – and if anyone hears anything of Harry Potter's whereabouts, you might be reminded that it is against the law not to inform the Headmaster or the Ministry of Magic.' He looked around at them all again, with the same contemptuous smirk, before sweeping out of the carriage. They were left in silence until the train picked up motion again.

'We should change,' Neville muttered, turning his back on the girls to allow Luna her dignity, as Hogwarts loomed ever closer, looking more foreboding than he remembered it ever being before.


	2. Chapter 2: Muggle Studies

_**DISCLAIMER: The world and characters of the Harry Potter series belong to J. K. Rowling, I'm only playing with them. The story itself was inspired by Deathly Hallows and by a story on Schnoogle called 'Resistance' by Worth 12 of Malfoy. I'm not making any money off of this. **_

**Chapter Two: Muggle Studies**

Everyone had been right to assume Dean Thomas would not be returning to Hogwarts; when Neville and his friends clambered into the coaches that would take them up to the school, he was nowhere to be found, and there was still no sign of him in the Great Hall once they had arrived there. Luna left them at the doorway and the remaining three took their seats at the Gryffindor table, which was looking distinctly bare. In fact, Neville mused, as he glanced about the Hall, all the House tables, apart from Slytherin's, seemed to have far less students than usual sitting at them.

His eyes fell on the staff table and he was forced to repress a shudder.

Instead of the familiar, welcoming sight of Albus Dumbledore in the Headmaster's chair, Neville was greeted with the sallow-skinned, hook-nosed Potions teacher he had feared for so many years, leaning back in his chair in a relaxed pose as he dangled a goblet arrogantly from his hand. For a second, he fancied that Snape caught his eye, but before he could be sure, the Headmaster had looked away again, answering a question posed to him by a squat little man beside him.

'Smarmy git,' Seamus said, nodding at Snape. 'Thinking he belongs there.'

But Neville wasn't listening. He was watching the fat, square man seated on Snape's left, who was wearing a self-satisfied grin that was difficult to discern between his podgy cheeks and many chins. This, Neville thought, must be Amycus Carrow, whom had been mentioned in the article about Snape in the _Daily Prophet_. And to his left... that must be his sister, Alecto. She was ugly as her brother and nearly as huge, swigging her own drink faster than Neville had filled his. She was also distinctly red-cheeked, making Neville wonder what precisely was in their goblets.

'It's all very quiet, isn't it?' Ginny murmured.

It was indeed. There was a little chatter at the Slytherin table, but most of the students and staff seemed very subdued. Several Hufflepuff girls looked ready to burst into tears, and it was a blessing when the doors opened and the first-years milled in.

As usual, McGonagall was at the lead, and it calmed Neville down to see her. Glancing around at Ginny and Seamus, he assured himself it had helped them, too. McGonagall was normality, McGonagall was Hogwarts at its best, McGonagall was a beacon of all that the school stood for and a reminder that Slytherin were yet to take the school over entirely. She took her place at the front of the Hall and placed the Sorting Hat on its stool.

'When I call your name,' she called out clearly to the first-years, 'you will try the Hat on and be Sorted into your Houses. Avery, Ophelia.'

'SLYTHERIN!'

Ginny glanced at Neville and Seamus, a crease appearing between her eyebrows.

'Is it not singing a song this year?' she asked, confused.

'Snape must've put a stop to it,' said Seamus. 'You know what those songs are like – remember that one last year about standing together and not getting divided? Wouldn't do much for Death Eater propaganda, would it?'

As the line of first-years slowly dwindled, a new trend quickly became apparent. At least every other student was being Sorted into Slytherin, and Neville recognised many of the names from old reports about his parents' lives as Aurors. Not only that, but many of the students in the queue looked much older than eleven.

'I reckon a lot of these kids must've gone to Durmstrang earlier on, you know,' he said thoughtfully, 'and had to come back 'cause of the new laws.'

'Or maybe,' said Ginny, whose mouth had pressed itself into a thin line, 'they're Sorting as many people as possible into Slytherin so that eventually they can do away with the House system altogether and just have Slytherin House.'

'They're trying to make the school one big Slytherin anyway,' Seamus said, 'with all this pureblood rubbish Snape's been spouting in the papers.'

When the Sorting was over, McGonagall took the hat down and made her way to the empty seat on Snape's right-hand side, though very reluctantly. As she sat down, Snape rose.

'It is my great privilege,' he began, in a quiet but clear voice, 'as Headmaster of this school, to welcome you all, whether you are returning or coming here for the first time, to the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. Those new students among you are fortunate to enter your wizarding education at such a time. This is the beginning of a new era, in which we siphon out those who have weakened our school, allowing us to focus solely on those who _deserve_ to be here.'

Neville saw McGonagall's jaw twitching as Amycus Carrow let out a wheezy giggle. Ginny's knuckles were white, her fingers squeezing her fork as though trying to crush it.

'In such a time,' Snape continued, a little louder, 'we must bring new rules and regulations to the school, as befitting such a revered institution. I would remind all students that the Forbidden Forest remains exactly that, while anyone seen outside of their common rooms at a time when they are not required in class or in this room will receive detention.'

'Trying to crack down on House mingling, then,' Seamus whispered to Neville.

'On that note, I would like to take this opportunity to welcome two new additions to the staff. Our new Dark Arts and Muggle Studies teachers respectively, Professor Amycus Carrow and Professor Alecto Carrow –' he inclined his head as they both rose, to very little applause – 'will be assisting me in ensuring that every school rule is adhered to. If we find that they are_ not_ being taken seriously –' his dark eyes glittered – 'then I am certain our new disciplinary measures will make students think twice about _not doing as they are told_.

'In the meantime, I expect you all to fill your hours with studying. All student clubs and societies with more than three members have been terminated, leaving you with more time to work towards your examinations. This includes House Quidditch teams.'

For the first time since they had arrived at Hogwarts, there was an outcry. Most of the Gryffindor table erupted in boos and hisses, while even students at the Slytherin table were now shouting heated arguments at Snape, who raised a hand lazily.

'Settle down,' he said, and bitterly, the Hall subsided into quiet. 'You will thank me for it at the end of the year, when you sit your examinations. Now...

'You are all aware, of course, that of all the people you see around you, one in particular has not returned to Hogwarts.'

Neville felt Ginny stiffen beside him, and he placed a hand on his wand.

'Harry Potter is currently in hiding, too afraid to face up to his crimes. It is _essential_ that anybody with any knowledge of his whereabouts tells the staff immediately. The boy has killed in cold blood. He is a murderer. You are doing this country no favours by protecting him.'

Snape's gaze lingered on the Gryffindor table for a moment, where Ginny's face had gone beetroot-red, clashing angrily with her hair.

'I suppose, then, it is time to eat,' Snape said softly, and as he returned to his seat, the tables suddenly bloomed with food, appearing out of thin air before them. The Carrows both munched greedily on anything they could get their hands on, not bothering to fill their plates, but stuffing chicken legs and roast potatoes into their mouths straight from the platters. Ginny stabbed the mash with her fork.

'That bastard,' she said furiously.

'Talking about Harry like that!' Seamus growled, sending a scowl in the direction of the staff table.

Neville was moodily picking at a bowl of cheese and pineapple.

'Did you notice what he said when he introduced those Carrows?' he asked. ''Our new _Dark Arts_ teacher'. Somehow I don't think that was for time's sake.' Plopping a large amount of mashed potato on his plate, he said through a mouthful of cheese, 'I chose Defence Against the Dark Arts at the end of last year. D'you think they'll let me change it?'

'I did too,' the other two said at the same time. Looking at each other, there was a collective sigh.

'It might be worth seeing what the new curriculum's like,' Seamus suggested. 'We'd be able to see it from the enemy's point of view. Might help if... if anyone turns up.'

Yet again, Neville felt Ginny go stiff next to him just as he felt a bubbling feeling in the pit of his stomach. Harry would have stood up and said something. Harry would never have let Snape spout such rubbish from Dumbledore's chair.

It was in a cheerless silence that they finally left the Great Hall, feeling fuller than before but no happier. Ginny said goodbye to them at the foot of the staircase to the girls' dormitory, and Seamus and Neville traipsed up the steps to the boys', barely speaking.

The unwelcome sight of Harry, Ron and Dean's empty beds awaited them. Seamus cast a quick glance at Dean's bed before burying himself in his own, turning away from Neville almost at once. Neville avoided looking at these unpleasant sights as he dressed, eventually glad to be able to drift off and forget the day's events. Somehow, he didn't expect tomorrow to be much better.

The next nasty shock came when they received their new timetables for the year.

'Hang on...' Ginny said, scanning hers. 'They've made a mistake here. They've put me down for Muggle Studies – I never chose that.' She glanced at Neville's. 'Hey – you've got it too!'

Seamus grabbed Neville's out of his hands before he, Neville, could check, and looked at it against his own.

'They've put all three of us down for it!' he said, baffled. 'What's that about, then?'

At the other House tables, several people appeared to be in similar predicaments. Neville could see people screwing up their faces in confusion as they tried to make sense of their timetables, others looking even more puzzled as they realised all their friends had the same problem, and the entire Slytherin table gazing at their schedules with mixtures of horror and fear on their faces.

'Professor Snape,' one brave little third-year managed to call out. 'There's a problem with all our timetables, sir.'

Snape stood up, and silence descended on the Great Hall. He cleared his throat.

'There is no mistake,' he said bluntly. 'We have decided to make Muggle Studies a compulsory unit for all students –' he held up a hand for quiet as people began to babble indignantly between themselves – 'to further educate you all on why, first of all, Muggle-borns do not belong at this school, and secondly, why you would do well not to mix with non-magical people at all. Textbooks will be provided in class. That is all.'

He sat down to a horrified Hall. Even though they were on the other side of the enormous room, Neville could hear the Slytherins protesting furiously between themselves that they did not care about Muggles, did not care about learning about Muggles, and did not care about why Muggle-borns weren't allowed at Hogwarts anymore, just as long as they _weren't_ allowed. The only person who seemed unaffected by this news was Luna. She was sitting at the Ravenclaw table, a dreamy expression on her face while she stirred her cereal with her wand, as though she hadn't even heard the announcement.

'So _that's _what they've been planning,' Seamus said. 'What's the betting we'll fail the class if we refuse to write essays about how all Muggles are scum?'

'Probably get extra credit for being _pureblood_,' spat Ginny.

'The Slytherins'll change their tune soon enough, then,' said Neville.

For Seamus and Neville, the new Muggle Studies class was their first lesson of the day. They trailed along the corridor, trying to put it off, before seeing the door open and Alecto Carrow's pudgy finger beckoning them in. When they had all taken their seats, she grinned around at them all.

'Muggles!' She spat the word out like it was causing a vile taste in her mouth. Everyone had seated themselves at the back of the class, as if to be as far away from her as possible. 'Muggles are among the most disgusting creatures on this earth. They are lower than goblins or hinkypunks. They are even lower than house elves.'

'They're pretty far above _you_,' Neville heard Seamus mutter bitterly in the seat next to him. He caught Parvati Patil's eye and saw her shake her head sadly.

'This,' Carrow said, pulling out what Neville could only describe as a shiny rectangle, 'is a mobile phone.'

'That's not just a mobile phone,' Seamus protested, 'that's an iPhone 4!'

Carrow's face screwed up in rage, but almost straight away, she softened it to what was clearly meant to be a friendly smile.

'Good boy,' she said sweetly. 'Of course, we don't need to know that. All we need to know is that this is how Muggles communicate, because they have grown too lazy to leave their houses and talk to each other. Muggle teenagers have become addicted to using these mobiles and also what is called the _internet_, and they are now almost incapable of interacting with others. This proves Muggles are uncivilised.'

Half the class were staring at her with their mouths open. Unperturbed, she went on, 'The internet is important to Muggles because it's how they watch _pornography_. This is when they watch other Muggles have sexual intercourse.' Lavender Brown looked disgusted. 'The internet can be used by anyone, so you see how Muggles are too evil to protect their children from this sort of thing.'

'Is pornography like _Magic Minxes_?' someone piped up. Carrow smiled.

'_Magic Minxes_ is a _wizard's_ magazine,' she explained clearly. 'It shows naked pictures of witches, but it can only be sold to wizards who are of age, because wizards are aware that children shouldn't see these things.

'Muggles often brag about watching pornography, or 'porn'. They take pride in how much they masturbate. Porn is important to Muggles because watching it is self-indulgent; it doesn't benefit anyone else, and Muggles are only interested in benefiting themselves.'

'Wizards use it too, though,' protested the _Magic Minxes _connoisseur. 'There's loads of other magazines too – _Hufflepuff Housewives, Randy Ravenclaws, Witches Who Want Your Wand _–'

'Enough!' snapped Carrow. 'You are making these up!'

'I'm not, my dad's got loads –'

'SILENCE! Twenty points from Hufflepuff!' Carrow took a deep breath before looking around at them all again, her sickly smile back in place. 'Now, Muggles also are addicted to what is called a telly-vision. When they are bored of searching for porn on the internet, Muggles use the telly-vision, or TV, to look for more. Part of the reason why Muggles are so fat, dirty and lazy, is because they are constantly thinking of when they will next get to watch pornography.'

'That can't be true,' Ernie Macmillan objected. 'Muggles have jobs!'

'Ah,' said Carrow, smiling in a way that unnerved Neville, and made Ernie look a little put out, too, 'that brings me to my next point.'

She waved her wand and their textbooks flapped open to a picture that made Neville recoil in disgust. Parvati Patil shrieked and pushed her book away from her.

'These are called _stitches_,' Carrow said. 'Muggles don't understand the way the human body works and so whenever someone cuts themselves, Muggle Healers literally _sew the skin back together_.' Neville felt as though he were about to be sick. 'Because Muggles are so dirty, the stitches always get infected. You can see the results in your textbooks.'

'How do you know Muggles are dirty?' Seamus said fiercely.

'Queen Elizabeth I is widely known to have taken one bath a year,' was the immediate answer. 'She was supposed to be the height of fashion and a role model for all the others. Just imagine how little the rest of them wash!

'For further proof of how evil Muggles are – if you _need_ more – then just look at _this_.' She waved her wand again and their textbooks flipped through a few more pages before stopping at a badly drawn picture of Muggles running and screaming in the midst of a fire that was encasing their homes. 'In the 1600s, there was an illness called the Black Death. Because they were too stupid to use magic to cure people, Muggles set fire to the whole of London to wipe it out, not caring whose lives were lost. They were so proud of this evil plan that they called it the 'great' fire of London.'

She opened her mouth to continue, but instead stared at Neville, who had risen from his seat, his fists shaking at his sides. The rest of the class watched in silence, except for Seamus, who was scratching his name into the desk with his mouth half-open. When Neville spoke, however, Seamus was jolted back to consciousness and listened.

'How can you say all these things?' whispered Neville, so angry he forgot to be nervous. 'Muggles are people too, and they're no worse than wizards. None of what you're saying is true!'

'Muggles,' Alecto Carrow said slowly, as if she were explaining something very complicated to a small child, 'are filthy, vile and dangerous. We should not mix with them. They carry disease.'

'Oh, yeah?' Neville said, losing his temper entirely. 'And just how much Muggle blood have you and your brother got, huh?'

Parvati screamed as, without warning, Carrow slashed her wand in the air, and Neville let out a hiss of pain, his hand flying to his cheek. Pulling his fingers away, he saw blood on them, and the rest of the class were scattering, shouting abuse at Carrow and stuffing their things into their bags.

'You can't _do _that!'

'Look what she did to Neville!'

'He's really bleeding!'

'I'm fine, everyone,' Neville heard himself calling faintly to the rest of the class, but no one seemed to hear him. He looked in wonder at the blood on his fingers. It wasn't so much that it hurt anymore; it was just the shock at what she had done. Who ever heard of a teacher cursing a student?

Carrow didn't seem to think she had done anything wrong.

'You deserved it,' she said contemptuously. 'Be glad it wasn't anything more.'


	3. Chapter 3: Still Recruiting

_**DISCLAIMER: See chapter two for the inspiration behind the story and to remind you who came up with Harry Potter. Also, many thanks to Turnip713 for reminding me that iPhone 4s didn't exist when Harry was in his seventh year – please replace in your own head with 'Nokia 3310' or whatever was a good phone back then. ;-)**_

**Chapter Three: Still Recruiting**

'That was all lies,' Ernie Macmillan was saying, astounded. 'Professor Binns mentioned Elizabeth I in our fourth year, because she was one of the Muggles who had to be Obliviated after witnessing a protest against the International Statute of Secrecy Act. She lived about four hundred years ago – hardly any wizards washed then, either.'

'And doctor's stitches don't always get infected,' someone else said.

'Are you all right, Neville?' Lavender Brown asked, touching his cheek. 'That looks really deep...'

'I'm fine, don't worry.' Neville was only too aware of the anxiety in his voice; he didn't want anyone to think he was dwelling on this so much as he was. But he couldn't help noticing how everyone was paying him a lot more attention than they usually did – Lavender had barely spoken to him the year before, and Parvati was casting him admiring glances.

He hardly had time to think about this, however, as in the next moment Ginny and Luna were bounding up to him.

'What happened to your face?' asked Ginny breathlessly. 'We've just had our first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson – we've got lots to tell you,' she added darkly.

Neville groaned and set to work telling them about the events of his last class. When he was finished, Ginny's expression was a mixture of horrified and impressed.

'I can't believe you said that to her, Neville!' Her voice had more than a hint of pride in it. 'That's the sort of thing Harry would've done!'

Neville didn't answer. He was reluctant to admit that he had been thinking exactly the same thing, and was feeling slightly self-satisfied about the whole affair, despite any unsightly wounds in his face. He touched his injury again and winced.

'You should go and get that looked at, Neville, before a Dorphyborf gets in it,' Luna said seriously.

'What's a Dorf-borf?' asked a mystified Seamus. Ginny giggled.

'Dorphyborf,' repeated Luna, unfazed. 'They're tiny little insects that are drawn to blood. If you cut yourself you should always cover it with Spellotape in case a Dorphyborf gets in, otherwise they'll start living in your veins and make your blood go too fast.'

Seamus laughed, apparently unsure whether Luna was being serious or not. He didn't have so much experience with her as the other two. He turned his attention to Ginny instead, someone he was likely to get more sense out of.

'What happened in Defence?' he asked her. She screwed up her face at once.

'Well, for a start, Neville was right about it not being Defence anymore,' she said grimly. 'They were teaching us some really _horrible_ curses – there was one that made Colin Creevey's ears go inside-out. And Luna got cursed for asking what the best way was to block it.'

'I assumed that was why they were teaching it to us,' Luna said dreamily, 'so they could teach us how to block it too.'

'Those days are over, Luna,' Neville said sadly, still dabbing at his cheek. 'What did he do to you? Are you OK now?'

'It was only a Bat-Bogey Hex, Ginny managed to stop it very easily.'

'Oh, yeah, Ginny's good at them,' Seamus said, grinning. 'I remember when she cast one on Dean for saying – uh...' He faltered. He had been about to mention Dean making fun of the commentary at one Quidditch match the year before, but Ginny had widened her eyes warningly at him; it had been Luna's commentary that had gotten such a bad reception. Changing the subject swiftly, he asked, 'So no one really got _hurt_, then? I mean, he didn't start blasting the Cruciatus Curse left, right and centre, I'm guessing?'

'I think he would have liked to,' Ginny said, her mouth set hard. 'He was saying some horrible things about Muggles. He wasn't even hiding that he wanted us to go out and use these curses on Muggles – he said outright he thought they deserved it!'

'You should've heard his sister's lecture,' Seamus said in disgust. 'Talk about discrimination, my _god_.'

But Ginny and Luna were spared the details, as Professor Carrow herself chose that moment to put her head around the door, her lip curling in disgust as her eyes fell on Neville.

'Time to move along,' she said sweetly, 'no messing about in groups of three or more outside of lessons. Time to go to your next classes.'

They could feel her eyes on them as they set off together, Ginny casting dark glances back at her.

'She just doesn't like seeing Gryffindors and Ravenclaws hanging out together,' she said defensively, giving Luna a quick spontaneous squeeze. 'We've got to do something about this, you know,' added Ginny, as they slowly traipsed up the corridor, Ginny and Luna heading for Transfiguration, Neville and Seamus for Charms. 'Otherwise people are going to start thinking they're right.'

'Oh, come on, Ginny,' protested Seamus, 'give Hogwarts students a bit more credit – no one's going to start eating up all that crap, no matter how many lectures they have to sit through.'

'In fact,' Neville added, as an ingenious thought struck him, 'the best way to _keep _Hogwarts students from believing something is to tell them it's fact in a lesson!'

'Yes, very witty, Neville,' snapped Ginny, throwing him a scornful glance. Over his objections that he hadn't, in fact, been trying to be funny, she ploughed on with, 'I mean it, you know. I know there are some smart students here; I'm not saying everyone's thick. But people will believe anything if it makes their life easier. You wait – the Carrows won't be as unpopular as you'd expect, not if disagreeing with them gets you a few lashes of the Cruciatus Curse.'

Neville would have answered her, but she chose that moment to draw to an abrupt halt, right in the middle of the jam-packed corridor. Luna swerved automatically, it seemed; Neville and Seamus, however, both ended up entangled on the floor. Those passers-by who weren't swearing at Ginny paused to chortle at the two boys instead.

'Ginny,' Neville called from under her feet, 'what's the matter?'

'Couldn't help us up, could you?' came Seamus' muffled voice.

'What is _that?_'

A girl with pigtails widened her eyes in terror as Ginny, practically foaming at the mouth, advanced on her; she cowered and covered her face with her book, only to find it snatched away from her. A seething Ginny was gripping it tightly in her hands when Neville and Seamus managed to unscramble themselves and join her.

It was a pristine book with a familiar face on it: silver-bearded and golden-spectacled, Hogwarts' late headmaster smiled back at them, his bright blue eyes twinkling. Neville felt his stomach drop at the author's name: 'RITA SKEETER' was printed in bold letters across the top, while the words 'THE LIFE AND LIES OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE' were pasted in italics across Dumbledore's crooked nose.

'Why would you _buy_ this?' Ginny shouted at the poor girl, who was jabbering something about having her book back, please. She squeaked at Ginny's raised voice, and Neville gently prised it out of his friend's shaking hands.

'Here you go,' he said kindly to the Hufflepuff, who hugged it to her chest and ran off down the corridor in tears. 'Ginny,' he said patiently, turning to her, 'you can't just scream at innocent people –'

'Don't you see what I _mean_, Neville?' Ginny asked in a strangled, but far from quiet, voice. 'People are already starting to believe things they shouldn't. I know that girl; she would never in a million years have bought a book like that before! What is _wrong_ with people – it's like they don't even _think_, it's like they –'

'People are scared, Ginny,' Luna said quietly. The sudden, serious tone stopped Ginny in her tirade; she and Neville both whipped their heads to Luna in surprise. 'Not everybody is as strong as you are; some of them need their crutches.'

Neville kept watching her long after she had finished talking; every so often, Luna's input reminded him of why she had been Sorted into Ravenclaw – besides Hermione, she was probably the wisest person he knew. In fact, maybe she was wiser. After all, Hermione had always been a natural when it came to learning new spells, and a genius when it came to her homework, but Luna's was a worldlier sort of knowledge. It was as though she were older and more experienced than she actually was.

Of course, she was clever in the bookish sense, too; he was reminded bitterly of that as she and Ginny left them to head off for Transfiguration, a subject he had never been able to get his wand around.

'We'll do something about all this, Ginny,' he found himself promising her as they swept off. 'Even if we can only do a little, we'll do something about it.

'From both of the Carrows to McGonagall and Flitwick,' he said to Seamus as they took the steps towards Flitwick's classroom two at a time. 'It's nice to know we'll all be a bit safer this period.'

When they entered Flitwick's classroom, however, their hearts sank. To their horror, Snape himself was sitting in the corner, surveying them all darkly as they entered and making notes on a piece of parchment in his lap.

'Professor Snape will be overseeing the lesson,' Flitwick squeaked, trying to give them all smiles of welcome, but failing miserably. 'We will be learning how to – gracious, Mr Longbottom, what happened to your face?'

'I –' Neville chanced a glance at Snape. His quill had stilled, but Neville could all but see his ears pricking up; he decided it would be best to remain quiet, at least for the moment. 'I fell,' he finished weakly, and Snape gave a distinctive snort.

'On to what?' Flitwick asked sharply.

'What are those for, Professor?' Seamus piped up, pointing at several identical sets of robes piled upon the desk in front of Flitwick; Neville threw him a thankful look as Flitwick grew distracted.

'Ah, yes,' he said, levitating each set towards a pair of students, 'these are what we'll be practising on today, and the charm we will be practising is called the _Protean Charm_.'

At these words, Seamus glanced at Neville knowingly, a look Neville sent back agreeably but then had to rack his brains to think what it meant. He had heard the name before, he knew – but before he had a chance to try to remember, Snape cleared his throat.

The whole class stared at him, but he said nothing; he only raised his eyebrows very slightly at the tiny Charms professor.

'The –' Professor Flitwick faltered; Neville knew that his observed lesson by Professor Umbridge in his, Neville's, O.W.L. year had gone smoothly and without interruption – he had probably expected this one to go just as swimmingly. But Snape continued to watch the other teacher with raised eyebrows, and slowly Neville began to realise just why the Headmaster was in such opposition to the teaching of the Protean Charm, as one of the first and therefore most exciting of the DA meetings seemed to swim before his eyes once again.

'_You can do a Protean Charm?'_

Of course – that had been the spell Hermione had put on those fake Galleons. With the sudden understanding of this came a second awareness – the knowledge that Snape, if he could help it, and he most certainly could, was not about to let Flitwick teach his students ways to get secret messages to each other.

'It's a charm that often comes up in N.E.W.T exams,' Flitwick said nervously. To the naked eye, it would appear the tiny, bearded professor was addressing the classroom full of students, but Neville got the distinct feeling he was appealing to Snape, whose eyebrows were now raised so high that they had disappeared under his curtains of greasy, black hair. 'Of course, we could always go over some of the charms we've learnt before, just to get you all up to speed...'

Snape smiled, apparently to himself, and put a tick somewhere on his parchment.

For some reason, the Charms class had made Neville angrier than Muggle Studies. It was one thing to hear a known Death Eater singing the praises of Muggle-baiters and waxing lyrical about doing away with Muggle-borns altogether – that sort of thing was to be expected. But Professor Flitwick was part of what made Hogwarts what it was; he, along with Professors McGonagall and Sprout and even – though Neville was loathe to admit it – Snape, had been there from Neville's first year and had contributed to most of Neville's adolescent memories. To see Snape treating him like a naughty schoolchild was abhorrent.

'We're bringing back Dumbledore's Army,' he said in a low voice to Ginny, as he and Seamus took their seats at the Gryffindor table for lunch. 'Still got your Galleon?'

She didn't look at him, but gave a tiny, imperceptible nod. Satisfied, Neville helped himself to a generous slice of pie.

'I've been thinking about what you said earlier,' Seamus said, grabbing a steaming hot panini, 'about them telling us all this stuff in lessons, and about that being the best way to make sure we don't fall for it.' Ginny rolled her eyes. 'I think you've got a point, mate, I really do.'

'Snape's trying to protect us from the Carrows now, is he?' asked Ginny, eyebrows raised so that they disappeared under her hairline.

'I'm not saying it's part of some grand plan,' Seamus argued, going a little pink. 'It's just... weird, that's all, that Snape never thought of it.'

Neville wasn't certain how many people would turn up to this meeting. It was, after all, too much to expect that everyone still walked around with the Galleons in their pockets, waiting to feel them burn. He supposed he had to rely on word-of-mouth, something Hermione had always advised against when the DA had first started.

To his surprise, though, come seven o'clock, a good few old members began milling into the Room of Requirement. Terry Boot and Michael Corner waved at Neville as they passed, though he was unsure of the last time he had spoken to them. As he watched, he saw Michael point at the gash in his cheek and whisper something to Boot.

Soon, he and Ginny were standing amidst a half-circle of avid listeners. Seamus was cross-legged next to Parvati, her twin Padma, and Lavender, while Luna played with her radish earrings on their other side. Zacharias Smith had not returned; he supposed no one had liked him enough to ask whether he would be interested in re-joining. Ernie Macmillan gave Neville a pompous but benevolent nod and a wave from where he sat with Boot and Michael Corner. It occurred to Neville that those who were missing – besides Smith and the obvious runaway trio – were all either Muggle-borns or too old to attend Hogwarts anymore. He felt a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. It seemed everybody felt the need to put a stop to Snape's new regime.

Ginny nudged him. He glanced around at the others again. They were all looking up at him expectantly. He gulped.

'Uh, I thought _you_ were going to say it all?' he whispered anxiously to Ginny, who sighed.

'Sit down, Neville,' she said impatiently, though not unkindly. He flopped to the ground beside Seamus, thankful. 'Well, we're all here to restart the DA,' Ginny began. 'For obvious reasons. The Carrows are gross and evil and Snape's getting too comfortable. So we've decided our main aim is to make their lives as difficult as we possibly can.'

'Aren't we going to learn spells this time, then?' asked Parvati Patil.

'Well, the thing about that is that Harry was always the best at Defence Against the Dark Arts – that was why he started it,' replied Ginny. 'But none of us are _exceptional_ at it – some of us get by, but that's about it. I guess we can practice the old spells and we can try to learn some new ones, but I wouldn't get your hopes up about this being exactly the same sort of DA as it was before.'

'I think we need that sort of DA, though, to an extent,' said Ernie Macmillan. 'After all, we're unlikely to learn _any_ defensive spells with Professor Carrow teaching us.'

'That's true,' conceded Ginny. 'We'll do as much practising as we can, but just don't expect it to be proper _lessons_. So while we're doing that, we're going to come up with ways to remind Snape that we're still around – that there's still people out there who're willing to stand up to him.' She clenched her fists determinedly. 'And we've got a quest for tonight,' she added, grinning wickedly.

'What is it?' Padma Patil asked at once, a similarly wicked glint in her eye.

'Marketing,' Ginny responded smoothly. 'We're going to advertise Dumbledore's Army.'

Filch's howl of rage could be heard all through the school the next morning. Professor McGonagall, in Ginny's second Transfiguration lesson of the week, simply raised her eyebrows at the yowling below and carried on teaching. She did her transformation into a cat to considerable applause and ignored whatever was going on in the rest of the castle.

But the Carrows and Snape had come tearing down the corridor at the commotion, skidding to a halt in front of the twelve-foot high letters that had been painted on a bare stretch of wall where a Petrified cat had once hung. Snape's eyes roved over them, his mouth hardening.

'Scrub it off,' he snarled at Filch, heading back to his office in a whirl of black robes, leaving Filch looking helplessly at the job he had before him of washing 'DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY, STILL RECRUITING' off the walls for the remainder of the day.


	4. Chapter 4: Crime and Punishment

_**Hi guys, I know it's short, but I'd rather give you a small update than no update at all. I own nothing you recognise, please enjoy! I'll try to update soon with something longer, I'm having my first bout of writer's block since starting this story – boo!**_

**Chapter Four: Crime and Punishment**

Neville and his friends paid dearly for their night of fun. Though Snape couldn't prove it was them, he made it very clear he knew they were the culprits, making pointed comments about _friends of Potter _and _rebellious adolescents _in his tedious speeches which were fast becoming the norm when it came to mealtimes in the Great Hall. It was not long after this that members of Dumbledore's Army began to see a striking rise in the number of teachers patrolling the school at night, and Snape was stressing time and time again that, besides lessons and mealtimes, students should keep to their common rooms.

Quite apart from the Headmaster's severe regime, Neville had a multitude of problems on his mind. Despite having faced the Death Eaters twice now, his performance in lessons was still remarkably low, and he and Seamus had set fire to the desk twice already in Charms. Dark Arts lessons were appallingly pro-Voldemort, even more so than Muggle Studies, and each week Neville found himself leaving the Carrows' classrooms with yet more injuries on his person.

After one such incident, he ambled into the Great Hall for lunch, already seething, to find Ginny perusing a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ at the Gryffindor table.

'You don't still read that thing?' Seamus asked in disgust as he and Neville sat down.

'Best to keep up with what the enemy's doing,' they heard her respond, her face hidden from view behind the enormous newspaper. There was a second's pause as Neville reached for the bread, and then a gasp from Ginny. 'Look at this!'

She laid the newspaper flat on the table in front of them. Opposite her, Seamus and Neville were forced to lean forward to see it, to the point where Neville found himself with his nose squashed against the parchment as Seamus elbowed him in the back to get a better view.

_HARRY POTTER SIGHTED IN MINISTRY OF MAGIC ATRIUM_

'No way!' yelled Seamus, grabbing the paper and nearly knocking out Neville's tooth, Ginny shushing him hurriedly. Neville's eyes flitted to the staff table; Snape had looked over at the commotion. As Neville stared at him, he looked away, but Neville had the feeling Snape was still watching their table out of the corner of his eye.

'"Harry Potter was seen with two Undesirables leaving the Atrium on Thursday",' Seamus read aloud. '"He released several Muggle-borns on trial and evaded capture by Ministry officials"... good for Harry! He's given the Death Eaters the slip again!'

'What was he doing in the Ministry?' asked Neville, aghast. 'That's the last place he should be walking into these days!'

'It's obvious!' said Seamus, a note of triumph in his voice. 'He's reminding the Death Eaters know who they're dealing with, isn't he? Showing them he's still going to fight back!'

Ginny was unconvinced.

'That doesn't seem like something Harry would do,' she said, absent-mindedly chewing her bottom lip. 'I don't know if ...'

Her eyes flickered to the staff table again, and it seemed to occur to all of them at the same time that openly praising Harry Potter in the middle of the Great Hall was not one of their cleverest ideas. Though the Carrows were, as usual, wolfing their food down as if they didn't think anyone would ever feed them again, Snape, shrewd as ever, was surveying the three of them with a worryingly knowing stare. They took that as their cue to leave, and, after saying goodbye to Ginny and waving to Luna at the Ravenclaw table, Seamus and Neville headed for the Gryffindor common room, discussing in low voices the article they had just read.

'Might have to check the_ Quibbler_,' Neville muttered, avoiding the gaze of all who passed, 'Luna's dad might have reported it. He might actually say what happened, instead of glossing over the bits that make Harry sound like a hero.'

Seamus laughed shortly.

'The _Quibbler?_' he scoffed. 'Mate, you know I've got nothing against Luna, but the only thing the _Quibbler_'s any good for is toilet paper.'

Neville rolled his eyes and said, 'It tells you a damn sight more than the_ Prophet_, these days. Pick one up some time; Luna's dad's the only one who's not scared to get people helping Harry – oh, no ...' They had reached the Fat Lady's portrait, and she was giving them a very stern look. Neville turned desperately to Seamus. 'What's the password again?'

If he had been with anyone else, it might have been easy to get in, but Seamus was the only one in their year who had as much trouble remembering passwords as Neville. He shook his head helplessly, and Neville turned back to the Fat Lady and gave her a sheepish grin. She raised her eyebrows.

'No password, no entry,' she said.

'Oh, come on –' protested Neville, but he was cut off as someone tapped him smartly on the shoulder. Expecting to see a Gryffindor student who would help them inside, he was struck dumb as his eyes fell on the pudgy, smirking face of Alecto Carrow.

'I've got a job for you, Longbottom,' she said smoothly, 'as punishment.'

'Punish–?'

'For your _lip_,' she interrupted. 'For the cheek you've been giving me all term. You're going to help me oversee a detention.'

'Help you oversee – don't you mean I've _got_ a detention?'

'I know what I mean,' she snapped. 'You can stop the backchat and follow me. Come on!'

Neville cast a gloomy look at Seamus, who cast an equally gloomy look at the Fat Lady, whose arms were folded as she shook her head firmly. Neville trudged after the Muggle Studies professor, pausing by her classroom, but she kept on walking without a moment's hesitation. Confused, Neville followed her until they ended up outside Filch's office.

'The cane, please, Mr Filch,' Carrow said sweetly as the caretaker came to the door. Neville's stomach turned, but Filch's face lit up as she asked, and his grin widened as his eyes fell on Neville.

'Of course, Professor Carrow,' he replied, in an equally oily voice, and he disappeared from view.

'I'm not hitting anyone,' Neville burst out. To his surprise, Carrow smiled, a smile that made him feel very uneasy.

'Oh, you won't be,' she said. 'I have something extra special planned for you.'

It was two first-years who were awaiting detention when Neville and Alecto Carrow walked in to the Muggle Studies classroom. They were both sitting at the front of the room, hugging their books to their chests, petrified. Neville stared at them and tried to remember when he had ever been that small.

As soon as he had decided such a time had never been, he turned back to Carrow, who was eyeing him with an unnerving smile.

'What do you want me to do?' he asked nervously. She took out her wand.

'Watch carefully,' she said, striding forward, towards the two first-years. She flicked her wand in the air in front of her and cried, '_Crucio!_'

'NO!'

Neville flung himself forward as the smaller of the two detainees screamed in pain: the other burst into uncontrollable tears and clung to her friend as Neville attempted to wrestle Carrow's wand from her, doing his best to break it. Stronger than she looked, Carrow was relentless, keeping the point fixed at the first-year who was no longer writhing in her seat, but had fallen to the floor and was scrunched up in a twisted, haphazard version of the foetal position, still crying out in agony. Before Neville could twist the wand out of her hands, Carrow lifted the spell.

'And now it's your turn,' she said.


	5. Chapter 5: Gryffindor Brawn

_**There's a lot of talking in this chapter – expect action very soon though. I had to give Snape a little cameo too. Hope you enjoy it – I tried to make this one as long as my writer's block would allow, seeing as the last update was so teeny-tiny.**_

_**I own nothing you recognise!**_

**Chapter Five: Gryffindor Brawn**

'And when you wouldn't do it,' Ginny asked, eyes wide and slightly tear-rimmed, 'did she make you use the cane on them?'

'No, she didn't try to,' said Neville, rubbing his face and wincing, 'she just whipped it at me instead. And she used that spell –' he lowered his voice – 'the one Snape used on your brother. She cut one of those first-years' arms. I mean, you'd think she'd think the Cruciatus Curse was enough to keep them in line!' His fists clenched convulsively under the table as he said the name of the spell.

They were hidden in a secluded corner of the courtyard, having blended in with a group of other students who had been on their way to the greenhouses. Neville should have been with them, and Ginny and Luna were supposed to be heading off for Charms, but it was the first time since the train journey that they had been offered the chance to chat in private.

The injustice of it had brought them all to the point where the first ten minutes of this conversation had been wasted by both his and Ginny's enraged tirades about Snape and the Carrows. Luna listened sympathetically to both their rants: how much longer were they supposed to be good little pupils and do their homework while Voldemort was out there gaining more and more power? Did Harry really expect Ginny to wait patiently for his return without doing something for the greater good, something towards creating a front against Snape and, ultimately, Voldemort? Would he, Ron and Hermione ever return, or had they all seen the last of them? Were they alive or dead? Were they in hiding or were they working towards something? Too many questions were whizzing around in Neville's head, and neither Ginny nor Luna seemed to have any answers. Too busy with her own dilemmas, Ginny failed to even try to answer his questions, while Luna had just nodded knowingly at him.

'We have to carry on,' she said, after he had told them all about his detention with Alecto Carrow. 'That's what we're here for – to help the younger students and to stop the Carrows doing too much damage to them. Harry and the others wouldn't just run away, especially not with so many Crumple-Horned Snorcacks on the loose.'

Neville stared at her.

'Well, they're very dangerous,' she explained.

'Anyway,' he said to Ginny, as if nothing had happened, 'didn't you say Harry as good as _told_ you they were trying to destroy You-Know-Who?'

He saw Ginny screw up her face as though he had mentioned something she would rather forget.

'I almost wish he _hadn't_ said anything,' she said. 'I wish he had come back to Hogwarts – I know it wasn't possible,' she added with an air of exasperation as Neville made to cut in. 'I just want to know he's safe. Going off on a hero's mission like that – who does he think he is?'

'The Chosen One?' Neville suggested feebly. She raised her eyebrows. He decided it was time for a change of subject: 'Are we going to have a reunion tonight? We haven't done anything since The Commercial.'

All the members of the DA had, in unison, it seemed, without conferring, resolved to speak in code from now on. They referred to the incident of the writing on the wall as The Commercial, and to the meetings in the Room of Requirement as 'reunions', in an attempt to avoid being found out by the Carrows. While they were all well aware of Snape's certainty that Ginny and Neville were still connected with the DA, there was no need to highlight everyone else's involvement, particularly in the cases of those members who had never spent any time outside of the meetings with Harry.

Ginny and Luna nodded fervently.

'It's about time we did something new,' Ginny declared. 'Remind people Harry's supporters are still out there.'

Ginny's outspoken attitude when it came to the DA was potentially hazardous, but Neville could see that she was trying to convince herself as much as anyone else. He got the feeling that taking risks and making things difficult for Snape was Ginny's way of convincing herself that there was still something worth fighting for, and he had to admit (to himself, at least) that he felt the same way; maybe they didn't occur as often as they did for Ginny, but there were moments when he, Neville, felt very much like giving up, and settling into Snape's totalitarian regime. Listening to Ginny's speeches in the Room of Requirement still hit home about standing up for Harry, and kept him from simply sitting down to his studies and giving his silent consent to the new Headmaster to do as he pleased.

And Snape certainly was doing as he pleased. Far from being the worst-case scenario, Carrow's torture of the two first-years had simply been the icing on a stale and overcooked cake. On his way to tell his friends of the horrendous incident, Neville had experienced a handful of unpleasant things: he had noticed a distraught Hufflepuff sniffing to herself over a wounded hand that had looked very much like Harry's had when Umbridge had been at the school; he had heard Michael Corner telling Terry Boot about an eventful Muggle Studies lesson where Alecto Carrow had cursed a student for giving the wrong answer to a question (the student was now in the hospital wing, the skin on her left leg having been turned inside-out); he himself had received several more slashes to the face after refusing to perform the Cruciatus Curse on those poor Ravenclaws. As he mulled all this over, Neville arranged his features into a determined grimace.

'We've got to do something _active_,' he said forcefully. 'No more pranks like the last one. It was pointless and dangerous – it _was, _Ginny, it wasn't worth the risks we ran – we need to do something that will actually _help_ the students and show the Carrows we mean business. We'll burn the Dark Arts books, or – or we'll snap their wands, or something!'

'We can't do that,' said Ginny. 'How are we going to get hold of their wands?'

'Well, we have to do _something_, something less childish –'

'Childish?' Ginny burst out furiously, but Luna hushed them both at once.

'Professor Snape!'

They dispersed immediately, remembering the rule about meeting in groups of more than two, but Snape reached them before they could run to their respective lessons. He stood before them, the old familiar sneer in place, surveying them through cold, dark eyes.

There was something different, though. It was the first time Neville had seen him up close since he had leant overbearingly over his cauldron, practically bobbing with excitement as he found so much to criticise. The black hair was as greasy as ever, but far from making Parvati Patil wince at its bad condition, as it had used to, instead it threw into sharp relief the dead look in Snape's eyes. They had lost much of their cruelty, and instead simply looked tired, world-weary, even, as though Snape had taken on too great a load and was now robotically doing as was expected of him. As he watched him, Neville forgot for a moment his fear and hatred of his old Potions master, and found himself wondering what could be so disheartening as to make a man walk around wearing such an expression.

He nearly jumped as Snape finally spoke.

'A curious place to meet,' he said quietly, his eyes wandering over the shadowed, spider-webbed part of the courtyard where they had hidden themselves. 'Perhaps you thought this was your classroom? After all, there are three of you, and that is only permitted within lessons.'

'We were just on our way, Professor,' Luna said, without her usual dazed tone.

'Together?' Snape's lips curled into a characteristic smirk. 'Forgive me, but ... you are in two different years, am I right?' His eyes settled on Neville. 'Out with it, Longbottom. What was so important that you had to have this little ... _reunion?_'

Neville couldn't help but widen his eyes at Snape's use of the word. Ginny kicked him from behind Luna.

'Ow – um –' Neville coughed, trying to cover up his indiscretion. 'Um – we were just –'

'Yes?'

'We were just saying "Happy Birthday" to Luna,' Ginny supplied smoothly. 'It's her birthday.'

'Generally birthdays are the occasion when you would say such a thing,' Snape agreed, not looking at her, but keeping his eyes fixed firmly on Neville, who was beginning to feel sick. All his old fears of Snape were whooshing back to him. There was something about those eyes that seemed to stare right through you – no matter how fatigued they might appear at the time. 'Am I to give you all detentions?'

Neville forced himself to stare back into Snape's eyes.

'No, sir,' he heard himself reply. 'We're all going to our lessons now.'

'_Sir?_' Ginny hissed from behind him. He ignored her.

'We're not causing any trouble, Professor,' he stammered. 'We're going –'

'Yes, fine, Longbottom,' Snape said impatiently, clearly bored of baiting him now. 'Let's see –' He finally tore his gaze away from Neville and looked at the other two. 'Ravenclaw, isn't it, Miss Lovegood? And two Gryffindors. So fifty points each wouldn't make it even, would it? Let's take an extra fifty from Ravenclaw – call it a birthday present, Miss Lovegood.' The smirk had widened, and he surveyed them all in turn before moving on, calling over his shoulder, 'I believe you all have lessons to go to?'

Ginny was fuming.

'What was _that_, Neville?' she asked, fire in her eyes to match her ginger hair. 'Calling him _sir_, _Professor_, treating him like he's really Headmaster – how is that showing him we need business? How is that _active?_ Are you _still_ afraid of Snape, after all this t–?'

'YES!' Neville exploded, wheeling around to face her and making passers-by jump with his raised voice. '_Yes, _Ginny, I am still scared of him. Not all us Gryffindors have your brawn. We're not all Harrys and Ginnys in this world.' He turned away from her shocked face and started to make his way down to the greenhouses. _I'll be brave when it's important to be brave_, he thought to himself, and contemplated shouting it back at her, but decided against it. The irony of that wasn't missed by him, either.

'You're a good half-hour late, Neville,' Professor Sprout said as he walked into Greenhouse Three, sounding surprised. Herbology was the only lesson where his effort had ever paid off, and as a result, he rarely put a foot wrong within these greenhouses. But today, after muttering an apology to Sprout, he found himself sitting at his Venomous Tentacula in low spirits. It nearly nipped his fingers off twice before he resigned to spending the lesson taking notes from the textbook instead.

That was the nice thing about Sprout; her approach was less hands-on once the basics had been covered – he was free to make his own lesson-plan. Or he would have been, had members of the DA not been bothering him every five minutes.

'Hello there, Neville,' whispered Ernie Macmillan, under the pretence of coming over to check his notes with Sprout's green-fingered protégé. 'Are we having a –' he lowered his voice even more, so that Neville had to strain his ears to catch the next word – '_reunion_ tonight?'

'Stop calling them that,' Neville said tersely. 'Snape's caught on.'

'Oh, dear,' said Ernie, wide-eyed and anxious as he took a seat next to Neville. 'We're not stopping, are we?'

'Of course not!' Neville's answer came out louder than he had intended, and a few people glanced over in surprise. He sent them all nervous smiles and lowered his voice again. 'No, we're carrying on,' he muttered, remembering Luna's words from earlier. 'We have to. But we have to be careful from now on – no more Fred and George jokes, OK?'

'Of course, of course,' Ernie said, his usual pompous way of speaking, which on another day might have amused Neville, setting him on edge instead. 'I quite agree, quite agree – we don't want to be a teenage gang, do we?' He laughed heartily, Neville shushing him in panic. 'No, no, I certainly agree with you there, Neville. About time we did something _active_, I say!'

'Yeah, me too,' said Neville, surprised. 'What did you have in mind?'

'_Well_.' Ernie put his head so close to Neville's that he could feel the Hufflepuff's breath on his cheeks as he whispered, 'Michael Corner's heard about a detention the Carrows have given someone tonight. They were chortling about it today – apparently it's going to be a very nasty one. Michael thought, perhaps, we could do something about it – perhaps get the student on his or her way to detention and hide them in the Room of Requirement. We don't want anything life-threatening to take place, do we?'

'They wouldn't do that,' Neville said uncertainly. 'Hogwarts still has to be seen as a _school_, doesn't it? They wouldn't go about killing students.'

'I'm not talking about his _life_, exactly, I'm talking about in _here_,' said Ernie, tapping his head wisely. 'According to Michael, the way the Carrows were laughing about it made him think it was something that could really cause some damage to this poor lad – or lady, I suppose. Anyway, we'd better put a stop to it before it can happen.'

'Well, _how_, exactly?' snapped Neville, feeling implausibly angry with Ernie and Michael. 'You don't even know who this kid is!'

'Terry Boot's on the case,' said Ernie, tapping his nose. 'Top secret reconnaissance. He'll be reporting to Michael later today.'

'And how long do we have before this detention?'

'It's some time tonight.'

'Some time tonight,' Neville repeated, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. Ginny and Snape had put him in a really rotten mood. It was taking all of his willpower not to tell Ernie he and his friends were useless. 'Well, glad to have you on the case, Ernie. Try and let me know at least five minutes before we're supposed to do this, won't you?'

Perhaps because it was so uncharacteristic, Ernie completely missed the sarcasm in Neville's tone.

'Right-oh, Neville,' he said, winking at him, before disappearing back to his seat. Neville shook his head in despair. What was he supposed to do with this lot? The DA – and he hated to admit it – had really gone downhill since Harry had left. He and Ginny were doing their best, but despite their good marks – Ginny's, at least – they were not cut out to be teachers. Ginny was making for a passable motivational speaker, but there were only so many times the students could listen to reminders that Harry would triumph in the end before it started to sound tired. They needed something new, something to perk them all up. They needed word from the outside as to how Harry was getting on.

They received it that afternoon in the Room of Requirement.

With Snape's regulations growing more and more difficult to get around, DA meetings now took place as soon as lessons were finished for the day, students leaving their classrooms in groups of two and heading for the seventh floor. When Neville and Seamus arrived that afternoon, Michael Corner turned out to have more news to divulge than Ernie had led Neville to expect.

'We need a wireless!' he said excitedly, as soon as they were all present and Ginny had got up to make her speech. 'Sorry, Gin – but believe me, you're all going to want to hear this!'

At Michael's words, Neville noticed a wireless on one of the tables that he was certain had not been there before. He pointed it out to Michael, who gabbled excitedly and started twisting all the knobs, filling the room with excruciatingly loud static as he muttered, '_Albus! Albus!_ Come on – _Albus!_'

'Michael?' Ginny enquired carefully, after several minutes of this had gone on. 'Um – are you feeling all right?'

'I'm trying to concentrate,' said Michael impatiently, banging his fist on top of the wireless. 'ALBUS!'

'Shh, Michael,' said Padma Patil, casting a wary glance at the door. 'I don't know what this room's like when it comes to people overhearing us.'

_God, we really don't need that_, Neville thought idly, and to his surprise, the room suddenly took on the look of a padded cell. Michael stopped shouting Dumbledore's first name at the radio and glanced round in surprise.

'What's going on?' he said.

'Er – I think the room soundproofed itself,' said Neville.

'Wow,' said Padma, looking impressed. 'I wonder how the magic in this room works?'

Neville was strongly reminded of Hermione, whom he was sure must have put all her energies into finding out exactly how the room worked once she had become aware of its existence.

'Got it!' yelled Michael excitedly, as the static from the radio stopped as quickly as it had started and a very familiar voice filled the room.

'_... more on that later. We'd like to mention a few incidents the public should take note from, if they're being a bit reckless of late – not that there's anything wrong with that –'_

'Is that –?'

'_Lee Jordan?'_ Padma whispered in wonder, coming forwards to crowd around the radio with the rest of them. 'What's he doing on the radio?'

'Potterwatch,' said Michael, grinning. 'And he's not Lee, he's River. Code names, see?'

'_We here at Potterwatch are firm supporters of not doing as you're told, but in some cases, you might want to keep your head down. Our representatives at Hogwarts School have let us in on a few secrets – apparently some new additions to the staff are taking discipline a bit too far. If you're listening, Hogwarts students, make sure you're not too outspoken in lessons – be outspoken in private, support Harry Potter in private and keep your own head on your shoulders at the same time._'

'Their representatives?' Seamus repeated. 'Who's he talking about?'

Ginny was practically glowing.

'Me!' she whispered, a pink flush spreading across her cheeks. 'I wrote to Fred and George and told them about what's been going on – they must still be in contact with him!'

Neville gaped.

'You wrote and told Fred and – Ginny, what if the owl had been intercepted–?'

But Ginny wasn't listening; she had let out a squeal and grabbed the radio as another familiar voice began to speak, a voice belonging to one of the brothers they had just been talking about.

'_What about You-Know-Who, River? What's the news there?_'came Fred Weasley's voice, hearty and cheerful as ever.

'_Well, it's a good thing you asked me that the way you did, Rodent – sorry, sorry! Rapier – because the name's been Taboo'd. If you don't know what that means, folks, then basically, it means Big Brother is watching you. This is very, _very_ important – DO NOT SAY YOU-KNOW-WHO'S NAME. It's the Death Eaters' way of finding Harry Potter's supporters and, if not killing them, then they'll be roughing them up pretty badly, so make sure you remember not to _–'

But the rest of Lee's sentence, and indeed, the rest of the Potterwatch programme, was drowned out by the indignant chattering of Dumbledore's Army.

'The nerve!' cried Ernie Macmillan. 'What cheek!'

'I don't think the Death Eaters are worried about being cheeky, Macmillan,' said Seamus, eyeing him distastefully; he had never like Ernie much.

'How do you find out about this, anyway?' Ginny asked Michael.

'Some Hufflepuffs were talking about it last lesson,' he replied, trying to listen to the radio as conversation buzzed around them. 'They were a bit reluctant to tell me about it, funnily enough. I think they thought I was going to turn 'em in – shh!' he said sharply to no one in particular, as Lee Jordan made to sign off.

'_And that's all we've got time for, I'm afraid, but remember to tune in next week – password's 'Padfoot'. Have a very Harry Hallowe'en, everyone, and keep your chins up!'_

'Oh, that's right, it's Hallowe'en soon,' Neville said, surprised he had forgotten. 'I wonder if the feast's still on?'

'Why wouldn't it be?' asked Padma.

'Well, everything else is changing,' Ginny said, looking grumpy again now that the transmission was over. Neville tried a change of subject, which seemed to be all he could do for Ginny these days.

'Did you find anything out about that detention tonight, Michael?' he asked over the general babble, as Michael switched the radio off.

'Ah,' the younger boy said wisely, standing up. 'Yes. _That_. Well, I couldn't find out exactly when it was, but I know it's definitely this evening, so I took that to mean any time after six o'clock. And I'm still not sure on the student – but one thing's certain: it's Amycus who'll be giving the detention.'

'So anyone walking towards the third floor after six o'clock has got to be bundled into the Room of Requirement before they can get to Carrow?' Seamus raised his eyebrows. 'Easy enough,' he muttered to Neville, shaking his head despairingly. Michael looked annoyed.

'Spy missions aren't easy on your own,' he said, glaring around at them all, as though daring any of them to criticise him again. 'All we've got to do is park someone outside Carrow's classroom – Carrow always waits outside for students in detention. As soon as we see him come out, we can sneak around to the entrance to the third-floor corridor and grab whoever's in detention.'

'Who's we?' asked Seamus sharply, as Neville said at the same time, 'I don't know if this is going to work.'

'"We" is me and Terry,' said Michael. 'We're happy to do it.'

'And how exactly are you going to get past Carrow, without him wondering just what the hell you're doing mooching around his classroom?' Seamus was looking almost as grumpy as Ginny had earlier, though she was now staring at her ex-boyfriend with a mixture of exasperation and amusement on her face.

'Secret passages,' Michael said triumphantly.

'They've all been closed off,' said Padma. Michael faltered.

'I knew that,' he said, throwing her a dark look. 'We'll – we'll find a way.' He grinned around at the group, none of whom were looking at all convinced. His smile wavered. 'Look, we can't leave this kid to get knocked about and tortured, can we? Just what else are we supposed to do?'


	6. Chapter 6: Nothing to Lose But Chains

_**DISCLAIMER: If you recognise it, I don't own it.**_

_**This chapter was a bit of a challenge to write – I had to really make myself keep going in this one, and for that reason it's a pretty short update. But I quite like the end result, and I hope you do too :)**_

_**This chapter is dedicated to Maria Rianki, as a thank you for feeding my ego so nicely.**_

**Chapter Six: Nothing to Lose But Your Chains**

It was all very confusing. Michael and Terry had made their way to Amycus Carrow's dingy little classroom, but he was nowhere to be found, and neither were any students. Everyone had clearly locked themselves away in their common rooms by now. Nonplussed, the two best friends looked at each other.

'Any chance it's not tonight?'

'They definitely said tonight,' said Michael.

They peered around the corner, looking back and forth for any sign of Carrow's stocky, cube-like form, expecting to see him traipsing, gorilla-like, towards them.

'It doesn't matter how much you squint, Mike,' said Terry at last, 'he's definitely not here.'

'I can see that,' Michael said. He pressed his nose up against the classroom door and jumped back at once. 'There's someone in there!'

They flattened themselves against the stone wall of the corridor like spies on a top-secret mission and edged closer to the door. Michael swore as Terry stood on his foot.

'Sorry,' whispered Terry. 'Can you see who it is? Is it Carrow?'

Cursing his tiny stature, Michael stood on tiptoe to peer through the barred window in the classroom door. Cautiously, he turned his head to the left, trying to identify the shadowy figure inside. He squinted. Whoever they were, they were too small and skinny to be either of the Carrows.

As he turned his head this way and that, trying to catch a glimpse of the stranger's face, an uneasy feeling began to settle on Michael. Whoever it was, they were in pain. They were writhing and pulling as though trying to break free of something, but every time they pulled too hard they arched their body as if electrocuted.

'Terry – I think –'

'What is it?'

'I think – I think it's the kid, I think – I think they've been tied up!'

Michael tried the door handle only to find it was locked. He pulled out his wand and gave the door a sharp tap.

'_Alohomora!'_

Both students burst into the classroom, their wands out, their breathing heavy. There was a squeak from the other end of the room, where a first-year Gryffindor boy lay manacled on the floor, gagged and staring up at the two of them with a mixture of intense fear and grateful relief in his eyes.

'Jesus,' whispered Michael, sprinting over to release the student, 'what the hell were they planning to do with _you?_'

How was he to remove chains? As a long shot, he attempted _Alohomora_ again, but it came as no surprise when the spell failed. Terry pushed him aside impatiently, pointed his wand at the point where the chains fixed to the floor and said firmly, '_Diffindo_.'

They sliced apart as easily as if they were made of parchment. The Gryffindor boy was staring up at them in wide-eyed panic.

'It's OK,' said Michael, as Terry removed the remaining restraints. 'We're going to get you out of here.'

But the captive was still giving them that terrified look and was now shaking his head fervently from side to side as Michael ripped the gag off at last.

'_Look out!_'

Michael turned – and threw himself aside just in time. Towering over him was not just one Death Eater, but two: both Carrows were leering down at him with evil twisted grins, holding their wands at the ready.

'You shouldn't be here,' said Amycus, his wide grin not faltering for a second. Michael and Terry exchanged a look, and within moments, both acted.

'_Expelliarmus!_'

'_Accio wands!'_

The Carrows' wands shot out of their hands as Michael Disarmed them – Terry collected them with his Summoning Charm, Michael's shooting towards him as well.

'Quick!' Michael snapped at the others as he wheeled around the Carrows, who were grabbing at him as he skidded through Amycus's legs towards the door. 'Terry, take him where we said, _now!_'

With a roar, Amycus waddled after him, arms outstretched like a blind man, leaving his sister to the others. Panicking, Michael called to her, 'Come on then, or are you scared of a real fight? Let's see how you can do without wands!'

He didn't stop to see if it had worked, but instead wrapped his arm around one of the heavy stone columns that could be found in most of the classrooms and used it to propel himself towards the door. He spun through it and ran down the corridor, trying to put as much space between himself and the Carrows as he could, not letting himself think about Terry and the first-year student. He could hear Amycus's duck-footed step behind him and chanced a glance at him: to his immense relief, Alecto was with him, slightly better on her feet than her brother but still gasping for breath, her hand on her chest as she groped for Amycus's shoulder with the other.

She wrenched him towards her and muttered something into his ear, her eyes not leaving Michael.

With a horrible sense of foreboding, Michael quickened his pace as much as he could, slipping down a narrow corridor – with any luck, it would be too narrow for the Carrows to fit.

He skidded to a halt as he reached a large, blank stretch of wall.

'_No!_'

It was impossible; he had been down this corridor hundreds of times, and it had always ended in a spiralling staircase that provided a shortcut to the Transfiguration classroom. But, like Peeves, Hogwarts had a loathsome habit of playing tricks on its inhabitants at the worst of times, and it was with a sick feeling in his stomach and a painful resignation that Michael turned to face the Carrows, stuck next to each other in the narrow turning into the corridor, Amycus's piggy eyes gleeful.

'You wanted to know what we'd do without wands?' he shouted to Michael, as if they were at opposite ends of the Quidditch pitch instead of just a few metres away from each other. 'Well, you're about to find out, intcha! Should've thoughta that before you got mouthy, shouldn't ya, you little runt!'

**111111**

Terry and the kid stopped outside the Room of Requirement, Terry putting his hands on his knees, panting heavily.

'Open up!' he snapped at the wall where the door should have been.

'Are you talking to me?' the first-year said nervously. Terry rolled his eyes and hammered on the blank stretch of wall.

'Let me in, you lot, we've got the Carrows after us!'

But he didn't know how the room's magic worked; he couldn't be certain if anyone was in there at all, or if they would be able to hear him if they were. He looked up and down the seventh-floor corridor for any sign of Michael.

'I hope he's OK.' The meek words came from the first-year, who still had marks on his face from where the Carrows' crudely-tied gag had been cutting into the flesh of his cheeks. Terry could see bruises on his wrists from the manacles and was willing to bet there were wounds on his ankles too.

'Are you going to be all right?' he asked. 'Do you need some Murtlap essence or anything?'

'I don't know what that is.'

The first-year was tiny, though Terry had to concede he was not much taller than Michael. He had the same sort of figure, lithe and skinny, and he was baby-faced, similar to how Terry remembered Neville Longbottom in his early years at Hogwarts. Watching the small boy, Terry felt a strong protective urge wash over him.

'What's your name?'

The boy opened his mouth to answer just as the wall next to them opened up as huge double doors, gaining them access to the Room of Requirement. Neville Longbottom himself was standing just inside of the doors, staring back at them.

'Is this him? What's happened? Where's Michael? Is that his wand?'

Terry shook his head wordlessly, gesturing to the first-year to go past Neville into the hidden room within.

'I'll explain later,' he said darkly to the other boy.

Neville watched them both shuffle into the room, both out of breath, both looking years older than they should have looked. Terry seemed at least ten years older than when Neville had seen him that afternoon, his shoulders hunched, his eyes weary and hooded. They both sat down in the middle of the room, where only Ginny was currently sitting. She stood as they reached her.

'I'll take him back to the common room once he's calmed down a bit,' she said to Terry, who didn't reply. Ginny made her way over to Neville. 'What's going on?' she said, lowering her voice. 'Where's Michael?'

Neville avoided her gaze.

'He didn't say.'


	7. Chapter 7: All Talk and No Action

_**DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and its characters belong to J. K. Rowling, I'm not making any money off this.**_

**Chapter Seven: All Talk and No Action**

It wasn't that weeks of listening to speeches about 'Muggle filth' and 'Harry Potter, Undesirable No. 1' had hardened Neville; it was simply that, in such times, a certain amount of 'shutting down' was required, if only to keep him from going insane. So when Ginny asked a couple of days later what had happened, in the end, to Michael Corner, and Neville couldn't remember seeing him since the haphazard rescue mission, he shrugged, willed himself not to let it bother him, and was fairly successful at this for some time. He put it out of his mind, and it was not until the Hallowe'en feast that he even thought of Michael's name again.

The Hallowe'en feast had always been an essential tradition of the Hogwarts school year; Dumbledore had always marked the occasion with more than a hint of wizarding pride. But when Neville and Seamus wandered into the Great Hall on October 31st, Ginny trailing miserably behind them, they were surprised to see only a few differences from the average school day. Besides a few more floating candles and giant pumpkins in the centre of each long House table, the Hall looked positively bleak.

'So much for a party,' Seamus said glumly to Neville, who was staring around at the decorations, or more appropriately, the lack of decorations, with a kind of wonder. It felt almost surreal for as important a holiday as Hallowe'en to be so underappreciated at Hogwarts.

No sooner than Neville, Ginny and Seamus had taken their places at the Gryffindor table, Snape was on his feet as usual, talking some claptrap about 'upholding the finest traditions of the school'. If Neville could have been bothered to listen, he might have found more than a few snide references to Dumbledore's Army in there, but he had long since ceased paying any attention to Professor Snape, who these days was all talk and no action.

But the good thing about the Hallowe'en feast was that it allowed for the chance to mingle and to Neville and Ginny's delight, they were given the opportunity to speak to Luna without either of the Carrows breathing down their necks.

When they reached her, Seamus walking behind them somewhat reluctantly, Luna was spooning large dollops of custard over her mashed potato and stirring it in. Ginny screwed up her face in disgust.

'Not going for the health option, then,' Seamus observed.

'Custard's very good for your Charm work,' Luna said serenely. 'Especially when coupled with fruit pastels.' She nodded at her plate. For the first time, Neville noticed some unusual sugared sweets poking out of her gravy, all in different colours. He decided not to ask.

'Well, anyway,' said Ginny, pulling out the chair next to Luna's and planting herself on it, 'forget all that. Luna, you're in Ravenclaw, you must know – what happened to Michael that night?'

It was the second time she had asked this since Michael Corner's mysterious absence from the few DA meetings they had been able to hold. It was with a kind of laziness that Neville recalled Ginny going out with Michael at one point – then, with a start, he realised it had been a good fortnight since Michael had vanished.

Had he run straight into the arms of the Carrows?

But they couldn't harm him, Neville thought hurriedly. Terry had taken and snapped their wands, he had seen him do it.

'... So we don't really know,' Luna was saying. Neville blinked and tried to look as though he had been listening all along. 'He just disappeared; no one has seen him in the common room or in lessons. We thought perhaps was in the Hospital Wing, but obviously we couldn't go and check because of not being allowed out after classes.'

'So let's go during classes!' Ginny said angrily. 'Luna, me and you'll bunk off Dark Arts tomorrow, and you two, you can skive whatever your lesson is –'

'No,' said Seamus unexpectedly, and Ginny fell silent, not out of submission but surprise. 'There are too many kids who need protecting in Dark Arts; it's just a shame we can't have someone stationed there all the time. You two will have to stick it out, however much you hate it.'

'We weren't going to miss it just because we don't like –' Ginny began, her cheeks flushing, and Neville cut across her as he saw a loss of temper looming.

'He's right, Ginny. I've got a free period tomorrow, I'll go and see how Michael's doing – assuming he's in the Hospital Wing at all. You and Luna should get on with your studies, even if we _have _got Death Eaters teaching us.'

It would have been uncharacteristic of her, but for a second Neville wondered if Ginny was about to burst into tears; certainly she was wearing a very off expression as she looked back at him. She failed to answer, choosing instead to move her chair closer to Luna's, recoiling at the last moment as she remembered the slopping pile of custard and mash sitting on the other girl's plate. Neville surveyed her for an awkward moment before turning to Seamus.

'Well,' he said, casting an anxious look back at Ginny, 'I suppose that's that, then.' He lowered his voice. 'I'll come with you on the way to your lesson tomorrow and break away from the group when no one's looking; hopefully I'll be able to get to the Hospital Wing without too many questions asked.'

'That's if it's even in use anymore,' muttered Seamus. 'Funny, but with all these detentions the Carrows have been inflicting on people, I haven't heard about anyone going up to Pomfrey. Do you think she's even allowed to heal them?'

'It must still be in use, otherwise what would Snape and the Carrows do if one of them got ill?' asked Neville, surprising himself with this flicker of genius. Seamus was chewing his lip.

'I guess so,' he said, glancing at the staff table, from which Snape had begun to send them searching looks. 'Let's not talk about it here, anyway. Shall we head back to the common room?'

But the moment they reached the high double doors that led out into the Entrance Hall, Alecto Carrow swooped down on them, her mad eyes wide and triumphant.

'And just where do you think you're off to?' she said in the sugary voice that reminded Neville so much of Umbridge. She had acquired a new wand from somewhere, and was gripping the handle firmly, as though terrified it might whizz off when she least expected it. Neville felt a surge of affection for Terry Boot.

'We're walking,' he told her shortly. 'Going back to the common room, where you're always telling us to go.'

Alecto's eyes glittered.

'I think you'll find,' she murmured, still fingering her wand as though itching to point it at Neville's throat, 'that there is a time and a place for a smart mouth, _Longbottom_. Your parents found that out not long after you were born, and you wouldn't want to go the same way as them, would you?'

Neville's hands curled into fists at his sides.

'Don't you say a word about my parents,' he said through gritted teeth. Beside him, Seamus fiddled with his earlobe, looking awkwardly at the floor. Neville had never told him about what the Death Eaters had done to his parents all those years ago, but he was sure Seamus knew it was a no-go area.

Alecto's mouth had curled into a thin, self-satisfied smile.

'Oh, I think I'm more than qualified to talk about your parents, Longbottom,' she whispered. 'After all, I'm more than capable of sending you to stay with them...'

1111111

It was with only a grumble to Seamus that Neville extracted himself from the group that had assembled outside Potions the next day. He managed to make his way to the Hospital Wing without too much trouble; classes were the best time to sneak around the school these days, as the Carrows were usually occupied with their own lessons, though Neville couldn't help casting nervous glances back over his shoulder to check for any sign of Mrs Norris, Filch or, worst of all, Snape. He had an unfortunate run-in with Peeves during which the tiresome poltergeist screamed, 'FUGITIVE!' at the top of his lifeless lungs, but Neville managed to skid around the corner and down the corridor before anyone had come running.

He peered around the door to the Hospital Wing and looked up and down the beds. None were occupied. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen. He stepped inside.

The place looked as though it had held no patients for years. Eerily clean and silent, each bed was made up ready for its next resident, but a resigned air hung about the place, as if the walls themselves knew the Wing was unlikely to be of use to any student again. And in Hogwarts, of course, it was quite possible the walls _did _know.

Neville made his way over to the portrait of a bespectacled, pompous-looking wizard in white robes at the other end of the Wing, nearest Madam Pomfrey's office. As he reached it, the wizard peered over his spectacles at him, quite literally turning up his nose.

'And how may I help you?' he queried, blinking rapidly in that way that overly posh English people always seemed to do. Neville's grandfather, before he had died, had always surveyed his grandson in the same way.

'Have there been any students in here in the last couple of weeks?'

'Does it look as though the place has been occupied?' The wizard in the portrait gave a long, loud sniff. 'Quite the best way to run a hospital, I say: no patients at all. Things go much more smoothly in a hospital that has no patients. Were I in charge, I would fling patients out the minute they were carried inside. Spreading their germs around a clean hospital...'

Neville had heard these sorts of speeches before; on the few occasions that he had been sent to the Hospital Wing, he had had the misfortune to have occupied the bed next to this wizened old wizard. He let him go on for a few more minutes before asking his next question:

'So there's not been any patients at all? For how long?'

'None at all this year: simply marvellous. Most efficient hospital ward I've ever been fortunate enough to hang in. Blasted malingerers!'

'Yes,' Neville agreed. 'Timewasters, the lot of them. So there's definitely not been a Ravenclaw student in here at all?'

'Haven't I just said we've had no patients, boy?'

Once he had managed to assure the wizard that he, Neville, far preferred a hospital without a multitude of patients to meddle in the staff's affairs, he settled himself outside the door to the Wing and sat with his legs crossed while he mulled this new information over in his mind.

Perhaps Seamus had been right in the first place: perhaps Snape had closed down the Hospital Wing altogether, though Neville thought it far more likely the Headmaster had reserved it for the use of staff only. With the Carrows' unconventional attitude to schooling, there must have been numerous instances of students requiring medical attention. And yet the Hospital Wing remained empty.

He pulled the fake Galleon out of his pocket and activated it with the tip of his wand. Usually, this would only require a quick poke, but this time, Neville pressed the wand to the Galleon until his hand blistered. It was the only way he could think of to let everyone know this was a real emergency.

111111

Neville had been waiting in the Room of Requirement for a good hour before the first DA member stumbled through the doors, huffing and puffing and clutching his chest dramatically. It was Terry Boot, brandishing his fake Galleon with his free hand.

He scowled and said, 'Just what do you think you're doing, Longbottom? This burnt a hole right through my robe pocket!'

'This is important,' Neville said shortly. 'What took you so long? Where's everyone else?'

'You called us in the middle of class,' said Terry. 'I had Slughorn, so I just told him I had a headache and needed to lie down. None of the other teachers'll let anyone out, though, except maybe Trelawney, if anyone actually does Divination anymore – I don't think you need to pass an exam to know what the future holds.'

'Harry coming back,' Neville said sharply, 'and You-Know-Who destroyed.'

Terry nodded but didn't say anything. Neville glanced at him.

Terry was a good bloke, he conceded: he had done a good job with that first-year the other week, and had been the one to steal and break the Carrows' wands, which had been a nice slap in the face for them even if they had managed to have new ones made. He was Michael's best friend and it occurred to Neville that it might be harder to impart the saddening news of the puny Ravenclaw boy's absence from the Hospital Wing that he had first imagined.

'So what did you call the meeting for?' Terry asked eventually. Neville checked his watch.

'Maybe we should wait a bit longer,' he said uncomfortably. 'A few lessons should be ending in a bit; maybe a few of them will make it here.'

He was right, but only briefly: Seamus appeared not long after Michael, having also spun Slughorn some half-hearted excuse; Ginny and Luna got to the hidden room without too much trouble; but Padma and Parvati Patil turned up with gloomy expressions, Parvati telling them as she entered that Mrs Norris had dragged Lavender off by the foot with surprising strength.

'I think she'll be all right, though,' Padma said. 'Filch won't give her up to the Carrows; I think even he's realising their methods are a bit... you know. Evil.'

'That's an understatement,' Terry Boot said darkly.

They waited a little while longer, but no one else turned up; it seemed the teachers were reluctant to give up their students to the grasping Carrows. Neville sighed and took his place where Ginny usually stood to give her speeches, shuffling his feet as he did so.

'Well,' he said nervously, wringing his hands as he looked around at all their expectant faces. 'Um... I'm sure you've all been wondering where Michael's been for the last few meetings.'

'Yes,' Ginny and Terry said together, both straightening up and staring at Neville.

'What's happened to him?' Terry asked. 'Have you seen him?'

'Um... no.' Neville spoke directly to Ginny so as not to have to look Terry in the eyes. 'I went to the Hospital Wing and it turns out it hasn't been used all term. Michael's not in there.' The three Ravenclaws exchanged uneasy looks, and Ginny closed her eyes with a sudden, sharp intake of breath. 'He hasn't been seen since that night he and Terry rescued the kid. I don't know where he is.' He looked helplessly around at them all.

It was Seamus who spoke first.

'So what are we going to do?'

Nobody answered: instead, they all looked expectantly up at Neville – everybody except Ginny. Not saying a word, she got to her feet.

'Neville,' she said, in a calm, clear voice, 'Neville, I'm sorry, but I think it's about time someone else took charge. It's no good talking about all this, making plans, saying words and not taking any action. We're going to look for Michael. _Now_.'

'And where do you suggest we start?' asked Terry, unexpectedly. He was looking darkly up at Ginny, having stayed in his place on the floor. Despite having to stretch his neck to meet her eyes, he seemed to look down on her, disapproving and disdainful. 'Where else could he be?'

'We'll look anywhere,' Ginny said, unfazed. 'We'll play it by ear.'

'Because playing it by ear worked so well last time?' For the first time since Neville had known him, Terry had begun to raise his voice. 'Not having a plan is exactly how Michael got into trouble in the first place! We should have looked into it more. We should've known what we were going to do. Action is great, Weasley, but at the end of the day if you don't have a structured plan then things are just going to get worse!'

'Terry, calm down,' Padma Patil said sharply. 'Fighting will get us nowhere.'

Terry fell silent, but he and Ginny continued to glare at each other as Neville took over once again.

'We can try the Carrows' classrooms,' he suggested. 'I know it didn't go all that well last time, but I can't think of anywhere else he could be –'

'Snape's office,' Ginny said at once. An uneasy silence descended on the group. Ginny glanced around at everyone, a look of impatience on her face. 'Oh, come _on!_ Don't you think it's about time we showed him what he's dealing with?'

'He's dealing with a kids' group,' Padma said quietly. Ginny spun on her heel to scowl at her.

'What exactly do you mean by –?'

'We all love Dumbledore's Army, Ginny,' said Padma, 'and we want to use it to remind people that there are still people fighting on the right side, but no one's kidding themselves that Snape's scared of us. That _is _what he sees us as – a kid's group, playing at being grown-ups and thinking we can take on You-Know-Who. Maybe Michael _is_ in Snape's office, but don't expect us all to jump at the chance to sneak in there. It'd be safer to French-kiss a Dementor.'

'I'm dealing with a bunch of cowards,' said Ginny in disgust.

'No need for that,' Terry said sharply. 'There are more important things than so-called bravery. Only fools rush in.'


	8. Chapter 8: Taking Action

_**DISCLAIMER: HP and its characters belong to J. K. Rowling. I own nothing you recognise. I'm not making any money off this.**_

_**Another chapter dedicated to my faithful reader Maria Rianki, bless her.**_

_**Sorry this chapter is so short, but it just felt like the right place to end it.**_

**Chapter Eight: Taking Action**

Ginny wasn't a fool. She knew her actions had consequences and, whatever Terry Boot might think while he was sat atop his high Hippogriff, she did think about those consequences before she carried out her plans. In fact, more often than not, it was the possible repercussions that pushed her to break the rules.

She traipsed behind Neville and the others as they made their way down a secret passage that Snape had not yet closed. It led directly to the Muggle Studies classroom and because of this, Neville kept shushing them all and starting at every sound in case it was Alecto Carrow coming at them from the other end. Ginny rolled her eyes as Neville made another wild flapping gesture at them before pressing his ear against what appeared to be a solid stretch of wall at the end of the tunnel, though Ginny knew it was the exit. When Neville had satisfied himself that there was no one laying in wait on the other side, he took out his wand and tapped the wall three times. It opened, and they were out.

When they pressed their faces up against the classroom door they could see no one in there; whatever Carrow was doing, it thankfully wasn't teaching. Neville stared through the little barred window for a few more seconds before standing in front of them all and stating in a monotone, 'He's not in there.'

'Thank you,' said Ginny. He threw her an annoyed look.

'Well, I guess we'll check the Dark Arts room, then ...'

'Isn't it obvious where he is?' Ginny interrupted, feeling her temper rising. '_He's in Snape's office_. He isn't here, he can't have been in the other Carrow's room for two weeks. It's blatantly obvious, Neville!'

'It might be blatantly obvious,' said Parvati, throwing her a contemptuous glance, 'but how do you suggest we get in there? Snape's not going to invite us in at the door, is he? Idiot.'

'Have you got something to say to me, Patil?'

'Let's not fight amongst ourselves,' said Parvati, who was massaging her temples as if trying to rid herself of a headache. 'We need to think.' She took a deep breath as though centring herself, drew herself up to her full height and looked around at them all. 'Ginny's right; Michael probably _is _in Snape's office – I'm not saying it's definite, but it's the only place I can think of, unless there's a disused dungeon or something. So we need to get in – not all of us, there's too many –'

'I'll go,' Ginny said immediately. Padma ignored her.

'We need to know when he won't be in there – maybe mealtimes, or we could find out if he'll be away from the school at any point. Or we could ... we could see if there's a secret passage or something?'

'He'll probably have sealed it off, if there is one,' Seamus said.

'Ginny.' Ginny glanced to her side as the rest of them continued to argue over all this. Luna was standing there, peering at her through large, orb-like eyes. 'I know this is hard. I know you think we need to be doing more and talking less, but Padma's right – just think what happened to Michael. We can't go charging in.'

Ginny sighed, running a hand through her long, red hair. She had always found it difficult to direct her anger at Luna, who could always be counted on to keep a clear head, however chock-a-block of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks and Nargles it might be.

'I just feel like talking takes too much time,' she admitted in an undertone. 'I don't see why we can't plan things faster, and then we could actually get round to _doing _them.'

'There are a lot of us,' Luna said. 'It's much harder to plan things when there are a lot of you. It causes more arguments.'

'And if you're _me_, the arguments just get directed at you.' Ginny's hands made fists at her sides and she ignored Luna's sympathetic smile. 'Can't they _see_ that we need to get going? If we stand around here we're going to get caught, we'll get caught if we go to Snape's office... we might as well do something productive!' She said all of this to Luna in a furious whisper, as the others continued to 'um' and 'ah' over the whole messy situation.

Luna was giving her a calculating look that failed to suit her usually serene face.

'Is there another reason you want to go to Snape's office, Ginny?'

'Huh? What did you say?' But Ginny knew it was obvious she was stalling for time. Luna was still giving her that disconcerting, shrewd stare. 'Oh, all right. You know Hermione was at mine in the holidays?' She, Ginny, liked to refrain from saying Harry's name these days. 'Well, the Minister for Magic came round, and he had Dumbledore's will. He – Dumbledore, I mean – left those three some stuff, and the Minister wouldn't let them have all of it.' She threw a quick glance back at the rest of the group, who still had not noticed their muttered conversation. 'The Sword of Gryffindor belongs to Ha– to one of them, and it's in Snape's office instead. I mean, I'm not kidding myself that I could get it and send it to them – Merlin knows where they are – but if I could just get it away from _Snape _...'

Most of the DA had taken to saying the Headmaster's name in a low growl; in fact, Padma and Luna were probably the only ones who had not. At this dog-like sound from Ginny, a few members of the group looked around.

'Got a problem, Ginny?' Parvati Patil asked roughly.

Ginny drew herself up as Padma had done, and stared around at them all.

'I'm going to go to Snape's office. Now. He won't be in there; it's nearly lunchtime. A couple of us might as well go – we're already in trouble for missing lessons today, anyway. I'm going to go up there and find Michael and bring him back, and if any of you actually care about him, you'll keep your mouths shut.'

She threw them all a disdainful look, not unlike the one Parvati had given her earlier, and flounced off, her long hair bouncing around her shoulders as she broke into a jog. After a moment, she heard Neville and Luna call out to her, then their footsteps. She slowed slightly, allowing them to catch up.

'We're coming with you,' Neville told her, as he fell into step beside her. 'But that doesn't mean we agree this is the best way to do this. We just don't want you going on your own.'

'Whatever.'

Ginny sped up, leaving Neville and Luna half-walking, half-running after her, so that the end result was a sort of trot. She called over her shoulder that it was better if they did it this way, because then if anyone caught them they could pretend they were in a group of two and she was on her own. She didn't think either of them was fooled, however.

When they arrived outside the office that had, for so long, been Dumbledore's, they paused, unsure of what to do next. The gargoyle sneered down at them.

'What d'you want, then, eh?'

'We need to see the Headmaster, please,' said Luna.

'Ain't 'ere, is he? You'll have to come back, won't you?'

'We'll come inside and wait for him, then,' said Ginny. The gargoyle sniggered.

'Think I'm stupid, do you? Just because I'm made of stone? No one comes in without the password. Find it out, come back, tell me it, and I'll let you in.'

'We don't have time for this. Let us in.'

'No one comes in without the password 'cept for Professor Snape. It's 'is office, and he don't like smelly little kids poking their noses around it –'

'This office belongs to Professor Dumbledore!' said Ginny hotly, and the gargoyle sprang aside.

They all gazed, open-mouthed, as the previously solid stretch of wall split itself in two and revealed a moving spiral staircase. Ginny looked at Neville in wonder.

'What did we say?' she asked. Neville shook his head mutely.

'"Dumbledore"?' asked Luna. They both laughed.

'Yeah, Snape's changed his password to 'Dumbledore' because he's really on our side,' said Ginny, giggling. 'Come on, let's get in there before he comes back from dinner.'


	9. Chapter 9: Consequences

**Sorry about the long wait – I've got no excuse, I've just been a naughty slacker whose social life has suddenly reminded me it's there. I promise not to do it again!**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing you recognise.**

**Chapter Nine: Consequences**

It was hard to believe the room they had walked into had ever been occupied by anyone but Snape. His darkly dramatic personality was everywhere: in the cold, bare, stone floor; in the carefully drawn curtains that shut out any inch of light that might have tried to sneak its way in; in the complete lack of colour besides dismal greys and blacks. There was nothing in the entire dreary, depressing room to suggest that Dumbledore had ever been there, besides a portrait on the wall where he sat snoozing in a large purple armchair. Ginny stood and looked at this portrait for a very long time before Neville voiced what everyone was thinking.

'I don't see Michael, guys.'

'No.' Ginny turned on her heel and strode purposefully towards the other end of the room, to a certain glass case behind the Headmaster's desk. 'But I do see the sword.'

Neville gasped.

'_That's_ why you wanted to come up here? Oh, I don't know, Ginny...'

'I would suggest,' came a clear voice from behind them, that made Neville squeak in terror and spin around, thinking Snape had come into the room, 'that you leave that alone, if you know what's good for you.'

Ginny rolled her eyes. It was the contemptuous, sneering Phineas Nigellus, who had also inhabited a portrait in Number 12, Grimmauld Place when she, Harry, Hermione and the rest of her family had all stayed there in her fourth year. Neville and Luna, who had never met him, had matching expressions of startled curiosity on their faces.

'There you go, Ginny!' said Neville with a kind of desperate triumph. 'You can't take the sword – how do you expect to get it out with him watching you?'

Ginny stared at him.

'He's an oil painting,' she said. 'What's he going to do, flake off at me?'

'How dare you suggest such a thing?' cried Phineas Nigellus indignantly, as the other paintings around him sniggered. 'I am in as perfect condition as the day I was painted –'

'Finished in a couple of hours, he was,' chipped in a portrait of a chubby old man with rosy cheeks. 'Didn't spend a lot of time on him. Couldn't stand to look at that depressing face for too long.'

'I think you'll find,' said Phineas Nigellus coldly, 'that the only reason for the year and a half it took for _you_ to be painted happens to be your considerable bulk.' He sniffed, turned brusquely away from the laughing old wizard, and stared down his pointed nose at Ginny. 'That sword belongs to Professor Snape's school. I will be quite happy to tell him who took it.'

'You do that!' snapped Ginny, and Neville shouted in panic as she plunged her fist through the glass and, with only a moment's pause to hiss at the pain, drew the sword out of its case. She brandished it before the now gaping Phineas Nigellus, crying, 'You tell him! I'd be _glad_ if he knew!'

'Then celebrate,' came a cold voice from behind them, and Ginny spun on her heel to come face-to-face with the towering, black-clad Professor Snape, his arms full of heavy, tedious-looking books, his large nostrils flared, his dark eyes sparkling with fury. 'For I have been well aware for some time that my office has been host to trespassers.'

They all stared at him, Ginny, Neville and Luna, none of them knowing what to say, what excuses to make, whether to run or to grovel. For a second it was as if Neville was back in the old dungeon classroom, snivelling over a melted cauldron as he was advanced on by the ever-irascible, ever-superior Snape. Those black eyes were searching him again, locking on to Neville's own large brown ones as though he, Snape, could read his innermost thoughts, his thin mouth set in a hard line as he finally tore his eyes away from Neville's and settled them on Ginny, who was looking him confidently in the face.

'It is always you three,' Snape observed, setting the books on the desk and neatly dodging the end of the sword, which Ginny was now gripping firmly by the handle. 'Trying to live up to the famous Gryffindor trio, hmm?' His eyes wavered on Luna for a moment. '_You_ may have some shaping up to do.'

Neville opened his mouth to speak, couldn't think of anything to say, and closed it again. Luna was looking interestedly up at the portrait of Dumbledore, whom Neville could have sworn had opened his eyes just a moment ago. Only Ginny, her back ramrod-straight, seemed able to meet Snape's eyes.

'Where's Michael?' she said, and Neville let out a hiss of breath. 'What have you done with him?'

'Michael who?'

'Michael Corner!' Ginny shouted, and in her fury she waved the sword in front of her as if she would bring it down on Snape's greasy head. He did not flinch.

'It is up to the Professors Carrow what is done with students who are caught breaking school rules,' he said smoothly. 'I suggest you take up the matter with them.'

'You're in charge, aren't you?' said Ginny roughly, and Neville nudged her in the ribs. She glanced at him as he mouthed, _Don't make it worse!_

Snape's lips had curled into a nasty smile.

'I am indeed,' he said, almost thoughtfully, like it had only just occurred to him. 'You will be happy to know that Mr Corner is alive and well.' It looked as though he wished it were otherwise. 'He is currently in the Hospital Wing, nursing some injuries.'

'You're lying!' snapped Ginny. 'Neville's checked, he's –'

'_Ginny!_'

Ginny clapped a hand to her mouth, the sword now hanging limply at her side. Luna was still watching the quietly snoozing Dumbledore, but Neville was furious. How could she be so stupid?

Snape, however, was looking as though Ginny had just let slip Harry Potter's whereabouts in front of Voldemort himself.

'Has he, now?' Once again, his eyes met Neville's, and this time his mouth twisted into a horrible sneer. 'Well, as long as you have your _best man_ on the job... Neville Longbottom, the master of cunning. Are you quite certain, Miss Weasley, that Longbottom's _famous_ flair for accuracy and perception might not have failed him in this case?' He smirked again and Neville knew he was remembering all the cauldrons melted into blobs, all the ingredients added in the fatally wrong order and all the little fires that had erupted in that infamous Potions classroom while Neville had been studying towards his O.. He met Snape's gaze and willed himself not to break eye contact.

'I believe Neville,' Ginny said, her voice faltering for the first time. There was something more unpleasant than usual in Snape's twisted smile, something that suggested that maybe they were about to be proven wrong. Neville searched his brain frantically. Was there any chance he could have missed Michael? Was there perhaps a more private area of the Hospital Wing – had Michael's bed been tucked away in a hidden corner as he was being nursed by Madam Pomfrey? But no, Neville thought, no... he had asked the portrait of the pompous old wizard, he had been told... there had been no patients in the Hospital Wing since the beginning of the school year.

'If you would like to check,' said Snape, examining his fingernails as he perched himself on the edge of the desk, clearly enjoying himself, 'then please... be my guest.' He gestured towards the door.

They all looked at each other. None of this seemed normal. Snape was giving them permission to go gallivanting around the school, he hadn't even mentioned the stolen sword yet. The initial anger Neville had seen in his eyes when he had ambushed them was gone, replaced by a malicious gleam that told Neville that whatever Snape had planned, it was bound to affect them all very, very badly.

'How do we know you won't send the Carrows after us?' challenged Ginny. 'How do we know you won't pretend you never let us go see him?'

'Miss Weasley,' said Snape, a definite tone of impatience entering his voice now, 'you are in enough trouble as it is. You have broken into the Headmaster's office, stolen a valuable historical artefact and –' he glanced at an hourglass on the desk – 'missed classes, by the look of things. For once in your life, keep your mouth _shut_.'

Ginny fell silent, though Neville could feel her bristling beside him. The hand that was holding Gryffindor's sword had tightened into a fist around the hilt, so that her knuckles shone white.

'She is right though, Professor Snape,' said Luna conversationally. 'If the Carrows saw us down there we probably would get in trouble, wouldn't we?'

Snape stared at her in the way that most people who didn't have much experience with Luna Lovegood usually stared at her: his brow furrowed slightly and for a moment, he appeared to be lost for words.

'You could argue that,' he agreed eventually, straightening himself up. 'Well then, I suppose I had better take you all there myself. Follow me.'

And with that, he swept out of his office, leaving the three of them to gape at one another.

'What the –?' Ginny's mouth was hanging open as if Snape had wished her a merry Christmas and presented her with a fluffy, oversized Weasley jumper. Neville was simply opening and shutting his mouth like a fish. Luna alone seemed unfazed.

'Come on,' she said serenely, gliding past them towards the door, 'he probably won't wait very long for us.'

They followed Snape in a daze as he led them to the Hospital Wing, not glancing back at them until they had reached the door to Madam Pomfrey's domain. He rapped sharply on the door and, to Neville's surprise, she answered.

'Visitors for Mr Corner,' Snape said.

Madam Pomfrey didn't look at all surprised to see them; nor did she mention the sword of Gryffindor dangling from Ginny's hand. When they walked in, the place could have been occupied for months: the beds were no longer neatly made as they had been that morning; there was a large array of vicious-looking medical implements by the side of a curtained bed; and in the corner, right beside the portrait of the portentous old wizard (who appeared disgruntled now that Madam Pomfrey had patients to treat), was Michael Corner.

'They're up to something,' Neville hissed to Ginny as they all crowded around Michael's bed.

His head was bandaged and his eye was bruised, but apart from these apparently minor injuries, Michael appeared healthy. He smiled jovially at Ginny as she asked him how he was and replied that his headache was getting better thanks to Madam Pomfrey. However, he seemed unwilling to meet their gazes.

'Why are you in here?' asked Ginny. 'What happened?'

'Oh, I had a flying accident,' said Michael, avoiding her eyes. 'That's what comes of being a budding Quidditch star.' He grinned at them all. They didn't smile back.

'Is that all?' Ginny sounded doubtful.

'Yeah, really, I'm fi–'

'That's enough.' Snape drew Michael's curtains around his bed, cutting him off mid-sentence. 'Mr Corner needs his rest.' He threw the place where Michael had been a nasty look, as if, like the old man in the painting, he regretted that anyone should take up a bed in the Hospital Wing. 'Follow me,' he said for the second time, and without bidding adieu to Madam Pomfrey, swept out of the Wing, clicking his fingers commandingly at the three students he had left behind. Begrudgingly, they followed.

Snape turned on them in a whirl of black robes the moment the door had snapped shut behind them.

'Give me that,' he snarled, whipping the sword out of Ginny's hand. 'One hundred points will be taken from each of you for sneaking into my office.' They all gasped, Ginny looking as though she were about to argue, but Snape overrode her. 'An extra fifty from Longbottom for going to the Hospital Wing without permission.'

_As if asking permission would have done any good_, Neville thought grumpily. Snape gave him the same malicious look he had thrown at Michael's bed, as if he knew what Neville had been thinking.

'You will also serve detention –' Neville, Ginny and Luna stiffened – 'with Professor Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest. You will go tonight. No excuses. Report to Hagrid at nine o'clock and do not even _think_,' and his eyes narrowed, 'about breaking another rule. I will not be so lenient again.'

1111

Ginny, Luna and Neville could not believe their luck. The loss of House points meant little these days and each of them had been expecting to serve detention with the Carrows, practising the Unforgivables on undeserving students. As they made their way towards Hagrid's hut that night, they tried to make sense of the whole situation, but to no avail. All of them were amazed at Snape's sudden clemency but nothing was more baffling than his taking them to the Hospital Wing.

'He must've been scared it would get out,' Ginny decided. 'Didn't want Michael's parents getting wind of it and marching up to the school. He's avoiding bad press, that's all.'

Neville didn't answer. He was seething. If Ginny had not been so determined to break into Snape's office this would never have happened. He supposed they had all known the Death Eaters would never have hidden Michael in there – it would not have made sense. But Ginny, with her talk of 'showing them who's boss' and jumping headfirst into the action, had persuaded him that it would have been worth the risk.

Hagrid was waiting for them by the time they got there.

'All righ', yeh lot?' he said, nodding to each of them in turn. He had his old crossbow slung over his shoulder and Fang was at his heels, drooling as usual. Neville gave him a pat and immediately regretted it when Fang rolled his slobbering tongue over the back of his hand. 'Would've thought yeh'd have learnt by now – best not to rile tha' lot up.' He seemed to be eyeing Ginny in particular. 'Yeh'll get yerselves into worse trouble than this, you mark my words.'

'What are we doing tonight, Hagrid?' asked Luna.

'We'll be searching the forest fer bowtruckles, need 'em fer the fifth years' lessons. Best ter stick close by my side,' he added, giving the crossbow a pat (Neville dived out of its way in panic), 'the creatures in there won' listen ter me like they used ter. Come on, then – sooner we get in there, sooner we're done.'

Walking into the Forbidden Forest was every bit as intimidating as Neville remembered from his first year at Hogwarts, when he, Harry, Hermione and Draco had all served their detention with Hagrid. It was then that he had vowed never to end up in there again, no matter how old he would be. He was finding it hard not to reach up for Hagrid's enormous hand.

'This way,' Hagrid said, and slipped his gigantic bulk between two trees. The others followed.

'How do we spot bowtruckles in the trees, Hagrid?' Luna asked.

'Well –'

'Hagrid's right,' Neville said to Ginny in an undertone, as the other two continued talking. 'We've got to stop being so reckless. Going up to Snape's office was stupid and pointless –'

'Pointless?' Ginny hissed. '_Pointless? _We found out where Michael was, didn't we? And if you haven't noticed, the punishment was a night with Hagrid. How long have we wanted to check he was OK?'

'Hagrid can handle himself –'

'Don't skip around the point, Neville. _We found Michael_. That was what we were trying to do. If we hadn't gone up to Snape's office –'

'Oh, come _on,_ Ginny!' Neville stopped walking without noticing what he was doing. Ginny stopped too, turning on him in anger. 'Snape obviously _knew_ I'd been to the Hospital Wing. I don't know how, but he did. He knew we'd eventually go to his office to look for Michael so he moved him to the Wing and made sure he'd get back to his office to find us. We played right into his hands!'

'Seems like a lot of guesswork,' Ginny said, her eyes alight with fury. 'Is that what we're doing? Is that how you're leading us? On guesswork and hope? It's not _enough, _Neville! We have to take some risks!'

'I think we've taken enough risks –'

'Wait,' Ginny interrupted, looking around. 'Where'd Luna and Hagrid go?'

Neville paused. The other two and Fang were nowhere to be seen. He looked down a pathway between two bushes and could see no sign of them.

'Oh, _brilliant_,' he muttered. 'Just _brilliant_.' He wheeled around to glare at Ginny. 'Now look what's happened!'

'You're blaming me?' said Ginny incredulously. 'If you hadn't started an argument we never would've lost them –'

'If you hadn't been so stupid, I wouldn't have had to argue with you!'

'Well, _you _should have been a better leader!'

'For Merlin's sake!' Neville yelped, kicking the tree nearest to him and feeling a painful sting in his toe. 'I'm not _Harry, _Ginny, you can't expect me to be perfect all the time! I make mistakes, I get scared, I can't help it –'

'You spend too much time getting scared and being cautious,' Ginny said in disgust. 'We haven't got time for it. Where's your Gryffindor courage?'

'There's a difference between being brave and being stupid, Ginny. Courage doesn't mean going looking for trouble, it means having the guts to do what needs to be done for the greater good. It doesn't mean messing things up for the sake of it, just so you can feel like you're doing something –'

'All right, so I want to feel like something's being done!' Ginny was so furious that she actually jumped on the last word. 'I wish I could be out there with Harry, wherever he is, doing something that's actually useful. But I can't, I'm stuck here with – with a bunch of _kids_ –'

'Exactly.' Neville spoke in a calmer way now, his heart beating fast. 'That's exactly what we are, Ginny. Kids. We're kids who need to make sure we stay safe. We can't keep running into trouble, Ginny, we have to stay focused, or _anything_ could happen!'


	10. Chapter10:Attack on the Hogwarts Express

**Have had this written for a while and totally forgot to update! Sorry guys! Hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think. I own nothing you recognise.**

**Chapter Ten: Attack on the Hogwarts Express**

Neville and Ginny did not move from the little clearing they had been left in for a long time. Ginny had wanted to run off and look for the others, but Neville remembered only too well his detention in his first year, and after some more shouting, he managed to convince Ginny to stick in one place. They were both gripping their wands tightly when Hagrid and Luna returned for them, Fang whimpering by his master's side.

'Wha' did I tell yeh about sticking by me?' Hagrid said angrily, brandishing a bowtruckle at them. 'Did anythin' come after yeh?'

'No, we've been fine,' Neville said. 'Sorry, we were talking and we didn't realise how far behind we were.'

Hagrid looked like he might shout at them, but thought better of it.

'Well, we're all together now, I s'pose,' he said grudgingly. 'Come on, we've got enough –' Luna's arms were laden with bowtruckles – 'let's get outta here. I don't like spending too much time in the fores' these days.'

1111

The next morning saw Neville, Ginny, Luna and Seamus all clambering into the Thestral-drawn carriages that would take them to catch the Hogwarts Express. It was the first day of the holidays, and as Seamus looked around he remarked that almost everybody in the school seemed to be going home for Christmas.

'Would_ you_ want to stay here?' said Ginny.

Seamus threw her an annoyed look. Like Neville, he had not quite forgiven Ginny for the foray into Snape's office, though all of the DA had agreed things could have turned out much worse. Terry Boot in particular had simply been pleased to hear that Michael was still alive, however battered and bruised he might have been. Their journey into Hogsmeade continued almost in silence.

Neville had never experienced this kind of awkwardness between himself and Ginny before; in their past years at Hogwarts, they had always gotten along well. But now she sat across from him stony-faced, her arms folded across her chest as Luna drummed her fingers on her knees and hummed cheerfully beside her. When they boarded the train, he settled himself next to Seamus and the two of them played a much longer-lasting and louder game of Exploding Snap than the last time they had occupied a seat on the Hogwarts Express together. It was clear to everyone that they were both resolutely trying to make things appear normal.

About halfway through the journey, the train ground to a halt.

'What the –?' Seamus stood, stuffing the pack of cards into his pocket and wincing as one singed the edge of his robe. 'They're not searching the train _again_, are they?'

They all glanced between themselves nervously. Would they ever have a normal journey on the Hogwarts Express again?

'What's that?'

Ginny turned on her heel to face the carriage doors, lifting a finger to her lips and making a 'shushing' gesture at the others. She poked her head out between the doors and looked down the train.

'It's that same Death Eater from September!' she said incredulously.

Neville put his head next to hers. Sure enough, the thin, narrow-eyed Death Eater was striding along the train towards them, a derisive smile playing at his lips as he spotted them. Neville met his eyes as he, the Death Eater, continued to advance on them, and he saw the cruel eyes glitter.

He stopped outside their carriage and gave them a thin-lipped smile. By now, Luna and Seamus had joined the others at the doors, squeezing themselves between Ginny's tiny frame and Neville's pudgy one, to glare at the Death Eater. He looked amused to see them all again.

'What are you doing here?' Ginny said roughly. 'You don't _really_ think he could be on the train this time, do you?'

'Yeah, d'you really reckon he could've been hiding out in Hogwarts for the last three months?' Neville said, a mocking ring in his voice that did not appear to throw the Death Eater off; on the contrary, he looked as though he were thoroughly enjoying himself. 'How stupid can you get?'

'A good question,' said the Death Eater, a malicious smile playing at his lips. 'You are quite right, of course. Harry Potter could not have been hiding at the school for so long. How silly of us.'

Neville and Ginny exchanged a confused look.

The Death Eater was surveying Luna, who stared back at him out of those grey-blue, oversized eyes. She alone was unfazed. Seamus nudged Neville and mouthed, _Something's up._

Neville nodded, deciding not to mention that Seamus was stating the obvious. The Death Eater, who had been so keen to rile them up on their journey to Hogwarts, was now staying out of their argument entirely, doing nothing but keeping a careful eye on Luna. Neville nudged Seamus back, and the two of them drew their wands.

The Death Eater did not draw his. Instead, he said, 'Well, we will be sure not to bother you on your train journey again. Many apologies.' But when he withdrew, there was a definite wicked glint in his eye that Neville didn't like.

The four of them glanced between themselves, Seamus and Neville still holding their wands in front of them. They were all baffled.

'Well... I guess we can sit down now,' said Ginny.

'Yeah –'

_CRACK._

Without warning, the Death Eater materialised in the middle of the carriage between them, his wand stretched in front of him as he set off curses this way and that, six armed Ministry wizards Apparating beside him. Ginny screamed, and dived for cover, only to knock into the legs of one of the larger wizards, and he reached down and grabbed her by the neck.

'Lovegood?' he breathed into her face, with a leering grin.

'The blonde!' Ginny heard the first Death Eater call, as she felt a sharp pain in her stomach: Neville, who was being held up in the air, one of the larger wizards having wrapped his hands around his neck, had kicked out at the one holding her, but had missed by a mile. Ginny let out an _'Oof!'_ as the wizard let go of her, emitting a roar of rage and turning on Seamus; the Irish boy had sent a Stinging Hex his way.

'Thanks, Seamus!' Ginny yelled, casting her trademark Bat-Bogey Hex wherever she could point her wand; the carriage was soon teeming with flying snot-creatures. Ginny heard several 'eurghs' and 'yucks' as they flapped around the carriage, obscuring her vision so that she could not be sure who they were attacking, and as she tried to flap them away with her hands she felt someone fall against her.

She turned and saw a head of long, blonde hair leaving the carriage.

'Luna –!'

The tall Death Eater, their nemesis, was dragging her out – there was nothing Ginny could do; someone had her by the ankle now, his wand pressing into her leg and sending a shock of searing, burning pain all up her thigh –

'Neville, Seamus, he's taken Luna –'

'WHAT?'

Through the haze of slimy, green bats, Ginny saw Seamus push his way past the remaining Death Eaters, who tried to catch hold of him, but to no avail; in the ensuing confusion, Neville managed to slip through their legs, and he and Seamus grabbed Ginny's hands as they all ran as fast as lightning down the train. Ginny skidded to a halt and turned her head every which way, trying to spot Luna's silver-blonde hair.

'There!' yelled Seamus, pointing.

The train door was open. The tall, thin, leering Death Eater had Luna by the throat, his other hand clamping her mouth shut as she struggled for breath; he winked at the three students sprinting down the train towards them as he pulled Luna off of the train on to the tracks below.

'No –!'

Ginny, Seamus and Neville could feel the train starting to move again below their feet; they heard cracks from behind them and ascertained that the Ministry wizards had Disapparated; they all skidded to a halt at the end of the train corridor, Seamus grabbing hold of a compartment wall just in time to stop himself spinning off on to the tracks as the train continued to pick up speed.

For a moment, Ginny looked as though she might leap off the moving train, but Neville pushed his way in front of her and looked desperately out of the door at the place on the tracks where Luna now stood, calling back to them; he could see her mouth moving but she was already too far for him to hear the words, and Neville could see the Death Eater's withering smile as he clamped a hand back over Luna's mouth. There was a _crack_ that Neville heard even over the rushing of the wind and the clanking wheels of the train, and both the Death Eater and Luna – beloved Luna – disappeared from view.

Ginny slumped to the floor in tears. Neville and Seamus did not move or make a sound, though Neville could feel Ginny wiping her face in his robes as she leant against his leg, catching her breath between sobs. The two boys could only stare at the point where Luna had vanished, already growing smaller and smaller, as the train continued mercilessly on its journey home.


	11. Chapter 11: Christmas at the Longbottoms

**I'm SO sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter up. I have no excuse, I'm just a lazy student. I'll get the next one up much quicker, I promise!**

**Chapter Eleven: Christmas at the Longbottoms'**

When a totally silent Neville got off of the train at King's Cross, Ginny immediately swallowed up by a crowd of red-haired Weasleys, he could already see his Gran making her way towards him, reaching out her arms to him and sobbing so that people around her stared. He was thrown for a moment; it was not often that Gran, tough as a badly cooked chicken and sometimes just as unpleasant, succumbed to tears.

She threw her arms around him as he reached her and wailed.

'Oh, my boy!' she wept. 'Oh, I'm so proud of you! You're a real Longbottom, you are!'

Whatever Gran was proud of, Neville wasn't sure, but he was finding it difficult to look at her. He wiped his nose on the back of his hand (despite her newfound respect for him, Gran gave a loud, disapproving sniff) and allowed his Great-Uncle Algie to lay a large, sausage-fingered hand on his head and ruffle his hair in greeting.

'We're all proud of you, son,' he said gruffly.

Both his relatives continued in this vein for some time, throwing out the old phrases they always used on the rare occasions when he had somehow found a way to please them: 'you're your father's son', 'your mother would be proud', 'we'll tell Frank and Alice when we see them, I'm sure in some way they'll understand how well you're doing' and so on. But for once, Neville could not feel the contentment that usually accompanied such compliments swelling in him; there was a lump in his throat and he could not speak, his eyes fixed on the figure in the distance.

'Are you all right, son?' Great-Uncle Algie asked. Neville shook his head numbly. 'Well, what's wrong then?'

Neville had seen the least welcoming sight he could have hoped for the moment he had stepped off the train. There, at the other end of Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, in lime-green robes topped with a purple wizard's hat that had a flamingo feather flopping out of it, stood a man who could only be Luna's father, smiling dazedly as he waited for his daughter to take the step on to the platform that she would never take again, blissfully unaware of what he was about to learn.

Neville swallowed.

'I have to go and talk to Mr Lovegood,' he said, and set off towards the eccentric older man without any further explanation.

'Sir?' he asked as he reached him, and Mr Lovegood smiled at him. 'Are you – are you Xenophilius Lovegood?' He had never met Luna's father, but he already knew this was a stupid question: anyone who turned up to a public setting wearing what looked like Blast-Ended Skrewts strapped to his feet had to be the editor of _The Quibbler_.

'I am indeed,' said Xenophilius with a jovial smile, shaking Neville's hand. 'And you are...?'

'Neville Longbottom, sir. I'm a friend of... Luna's. From school.'

Xenophilius did not, it seemed, notice the break in Neville's voice as he said his friend's name. He grasped Neville's hands in delight, squeezing them in his own bony fingers.

'Ah, my daughter has told me all about you, Neville! You were with her at the Ministry, were you not? And you are a friend of the Chosen One!'

'I'm Harry's friend, yeah.' Neville could not meet the man's eyes. 'Luna's a better friend to him, Mr Lovegood.'

'She's a good girl, my Luna.' Xenophilius cast his eyes over the platform to where the scarlet Hogwarts Express was still sitting, the last of the students milling out to find their parents. 'Where's she got to?'

'Mr Lovegood...'

Neville had never done anything like this before. He had never been the bringer of bad news, at least none so bad as this. He rarely had something so important to impart that he was forced to think about the way in which it must be imparted, delicately, yet concisely enough that the worst would be over quickly. He thought about using such clichés as 'I don't know how to say this, so I'm just going to say it' or 'there's something you need to know' but none of these seemed quite good enough. Just how was he supposed to tell someone that their daughter, a daughter so brave and wise and perfect as Luna, had been taken prisoner and might not even be alive anymore?

'Mr Lovegood, there were some Death Eaters on the train.'

At once, Mr Lovegood's face took on a sickly pallor, his eyes goggled and he fell to his knees. Neville did not know what to do. He was yet to say anything that personally affected the man, but Mr Lovegood was staring up at him, shaking his head from side to side like a madman, his eyes bulging.

'Not... not my Luna,' he choked out, bony fingers scraping at the gravel beneath his hands and knees. 'No...'

Unable to speak, Neville nodded. He was chewing the inside of his cheek convulsively. He could hear startled voices behind him, and a hand on his shoulder told him that Gran and Great-Uncle Algie had joined them.

'Come on, Neville, don't upset Mr Lovegood –'

'You all right down there?' Great-Uncle Algie called down to the shrivelled man, in the sort of tones one might use with a deaf person. 'He's gone soft,' he muttered in Neville's ear. Gran threw him a dirty look.

'Now come on, Xeno, up you get.' She helped him to his feet with surprising ease for a woman so much older than him, but then Neville knew from years of experience that Gran could be stronger than the world's sprightliest teenager if the mood took her. 'Neville, you mustn't go around bothering people!'

'Sorry,' Neville said, beginning to move away. 'I'm very sorry, Mr Lovegood.'

But Xeno Lovegood's emaciated fingers had seized him by the front of his robes, pulling him back towards him.

'My boy,' he whispered, between sobs, 'thank you... for being her friend.'

1111111

Christmas, though always cheerful and well-meaning, was at the best of times a dreary affair for Neville, being the youngest of the family by about eighty years. As Gran levitated a gargantuan turkey on to the table, every face looking in delight at it was lined and wrinkled like a scrunched-up paper bag, or a newly unearthed Mandrake. Any other year, Neville would have spent the time before he could courteously excuse himself simply twiddling his thumbs under the table and struggling to listen to the fire of questions aimed at him about his progress at Hogwarts, Trevor the toad's wellbeing and, in more recent years, his famous and perhaps even _chosen_ friend, Harry Potter.

This year was quite different. The rest of his family nattered and chattered amongst themselves as they usually would have done, but had they begun their regular tirade of questions, Neville would not have been able to respond. He merely stared ahead of him at the turkey that was just settling itself on the table, not really seeing it, hoping to Merlin that nobody would ask him about his time at Hogwarts this year.

'We're very pleased with Neville's progress,' he heard Great-Uncle Algie curtly say to Auntie Dora, who was sitting next to him and had clearly just asked him one of the eager questions Neville had been dreading. He braced himself, but the interview never came. Instead, he only heard a squeal of 'Ah, good grades at last!' from Auntie Dora, aimed not at him but at Great-Uncle Algie. With a rush of gratitude, he realised that Gran and Great-Uncle must have invented some reason for Neville's not being discomfited this Christmas, perhaps out of illness or fatigue.

'Doing well, then, Neville?' asked a red-cheeked Uncle Fortescue, tipping wine all down himself (he tried to suck it off of his napkin, but failed tremendously). 'Top of all your – hic – classes, eh?' He gave a massive guffaw and hit Neville so hard on the back that Neville thought his teeth might fly out.

'Um... not really,' he spluttered. 'Just... a bit more outspoken than I used to be.'

'He's a good boy,' said Great-Uncle Algie, coming to Neville's aid. 'Now, who wants a slice?'

And he waved his wand in the air so that the turkey began to slice itself and whip the pieces across the table to those who held out their plates in expectation.

Amidst the general hubbub, Gran, who had seated herself next to Neville, began in a low tone to ask him questions about the DA.

'I know you don't want to talk about this last term,' she said, 'but I'd like to know – are you still doing it all? Are you fighting?'

Even in his current state of melancholy, Neville had to marvel at Gran's spirit. Though he knew that she was concerned for his wellbeing, her concern that he was 'doing the right thing' and choosing his side in the greater scheme of things, that he was truly his father's son, was almost as great, and he decided not to tell her that he was thinking of closing the DA down. Instead, he began to tell her in hushed tones about the fate that had befallen Michael Corner in the past months at Hogwarts.

When he was finished, Gran gasped and crossed herself as though in church.

'Oh, that poor boy... just what did they do to him?'

Feeling inadequate, as he often did at family get-togethers, Neville shrugged.

'Last we saw of him, he was in the Hospital Wing, but he didn't tell us anything. We reckon Snape's trying to scare us, hoping our imaginations will run riot and make us pack everything in. But to be honest, I think whatever the Carrows dreamed up to do to Michael will be worse than anything _we _can think of.'

It took a few seconds for Neville to realise the matter-of-fact tone his voice had taken on, and with a mounting feeling of unease, he began to wonder whether the atmosphere at Hogwarts in the last few months had had such a numbing effect on him that he was starting not to care. But no, he reassured himself... the fact that he was asking himself such a question surely meant that he did still care, about the DA, about its members, about Harry... and yet he found it difficult to think of the DA as anything more than a teenagers' gang at the moment; it was growing easier to think of its members as toy soldiers in a silly children's game; and Harry... well, it was hard to think about Harry at all these days. Sometimes it was hard to believe Harry, Ron _or_ Hermione had ever been around. They were like faceless deities that he dutifully brought out every time someone voiced the opinion that maybe there was nothing worth fighting for anymore.

'_Remember Harry!_' He could hear himself desperately saying those words in the Room of Requirement over and over again, looking out at a sea of dubious faces, faces that proved their owners had lost the will to fight. '_Harry's going to come back, just you wait – he's going to come back for us..._'

But when?_ When _would Harry return? It had been more than three months, nearly four, and no one had heard anything from him. Ginny had heard nothing from her own brother, as far as Neville knew. Potterwatch had done little to calm his nerves. Nobody knew where Harry was – which was good, Neville supposed, because if he was dead then the Death Eaters would have let everyone know by now. But his fear and anxiety was mounting every day to the point where it had overcome the rational side of his mind: if Neville didn't hear anything from Harry soon, he thought he might go mad.

Gran must have seen something in Neville's face that told her he needed to be alone, because she sent him to his room and passed around a lie that he was feeling unwell. That sent up a sympathetic chorus of 'oh, and on Christmas day, too!' and other such phrases from the rest of the family, but Neville only mustered a small smile and disappeared. When he arrived in his bedroom, he found a battered-looking owl awaiting him.

Recognising it as Ginny's family owl, Errol, he untied a roll of parchment from its leg and watched it flump down on the desk, making an impressive '_thwack_' sound as it did so. He gave it some water and a nibble of a biscuit, though he was unsure if biscuits would not make things worse – never having owned one himself, he could not know what pet owls were supposed to eat.

He unrolled the parchment and began to read.

_N _(it said)

_Everything OK here. We've got a visitor for the holidays. You know him pretty well, he says he misses you. Hope you understand who I mean. Mum a bit worried, keeps saying stupid things about us having to go into hiding. Hope you're all having good Christmas. Write soon._

_GW_

Neville re-read the abrupt note several times. Ginny's code was not exactly difficult to crack, but it couldn't mean what he thought it meant. Was Harry there? Was he at The Burrow right now, filling Ginny in on all the adventures he had been having while they'd been stuck at Hogwarts under Snape's regime, sending students to be butchered by the Carrows and being forced to practise Cruciatus on undeserving first-years?

Filled with inexplicable anger, Neville crumpled up the letter and threw it forcefully at the bin. It bounced off and hit Errol on the side of the head. The owl twitched, then promptly fell over once again.

Feeling slightly ashamed, Neville gave it a quick stroke and opened the window wider to give it some air. He then took a fresh piece of parchment and began to write a reply.

_G_

_Glad everything good. No more letters, not safe. Hope your visitor is well and getting on with things. Everything OK here._

_NL_

It felt strange to be sending such a brusque reply, but it would have to do. He tried to coax Errol into taking the letter, but the owl simply gave him a dazed look and flopped back on to the desk. Resisting the temptation to throttle it, Neville folded up the note and pushed it into a drawer for the time being.

It was the only letter he had received so far in the holiday, though there was so much he wanted to know. He had sent Xenophilius Lovegood a quick note expressing sympathy and hope that Luna, wherever she was, would manage to find her way home soon, though he did not expect an answer, not when Mr Lovegood was so bereaved – no, depressed, he corrected himself: Luna was not dead, simply missing, much like Harry.

Could Harry really be at the Weasleys'? If so, were Ron and Hermione there too? But Ginny had said 'a visitor', not 'visitors'. Perhaps it was Ron, her brother, and perhaps he was shedding light right now on what the three of them had been up to. But if Ron was there, then why weren't Harry and Hermione with him? Had something happened to them? Was Ron the only one left?

11111

'Gran!' Neville hammered on the door of the kitchen, which Gran had wedged tight, as she so often did when she did not want her perfectly planned meal to be disturbed. 'Gran, you have to come and look at this! GRAN!'

'Neville, I'm trying to do the dinner –'

'LOOK!'

Neville flattened the new issue of _The Quibbler _on the dining table, which Great-Uncle Algiewas sitting at and which Gran, he knew, would be able to see as she poked her nose around the kitchen door. They all looked at Harry Potter's face, staring up at them from the front page, the words 'UNDESIRABLE NO. 1' plastered brutally across it.

Great-Uncle Algie made a noise that sounded like 'Harrumph!'

'Dotty old fool,' he said, popping his pipe back in his mouth. 'Doesn't know his own opinions from one day to the next.'

'What's that say, Neville?' Gran called, squinting to see. Neville held it up mutely. She mouthed the words as she read them, and then a dark look came into her eyes.

'It's that lot,' she said furiously. 'Those Death Eaters must be threatening him – using his daughter as leverage to get him to stop keeping our spirits up.'

She looked livid, but Neville felt a rush of joy at her words as he realised what that must mean.

'So Luna must still be alive!' he said excitedly. 'Otherwise they wouldn't have a hold on him!'

Neither Gran nor Great-Uncle Algie answered. Gran excused herself and dipped back into the kitchen to check on the sprouts, while Great-Uncle Algiesimply continued to puff on his pipe.

Neville sat down opposite him.

'How you getting on, lad?' asked Great-Uncle without looking at him. He had a habit of speaking to the ceiling if there was need for a serious conversation, which was what Neville liked about talking to him. It was a habit he had always meant to pick up, because he enjoyed the sense of detachment that came from it. 'How's that DA of yours?'

Neville cast a quick glance at the kitchen door.

'I haven't told Gran,' he whispered, 'but I'm thinking of stopping it altogether.'

Great-Uncle spat his pipe out so that it made a great _thud_ on the tabletop.

'You can't do that, lad!' he said, outraged, as Neville shushed him hurriedly. 'That group's been brilliant for you, just brilliant! It's made you into a real man!'

'I love the DA,' Neville agreed, 'but I'm starting to think I'm being a bit selfish. I don't know if Gran's told you about what happened to Michael –' at a grave nod from his uncle, he carried on – 'but what with him and Luna getting... getting carried off, I think it's about time we packed it in, to be honest.'

'Some people in that group may have had bad things happen to them, Neville,' Great-Uncle said severely, 'but I'll bet you a thousand Galleons that it's been the only thing keeping those kids going. They'd all have given up by now if it weren't for you, telling 'em about Potter and reminding 'em what we're all fighting for.'

Great-Uncle's words were eerily familiar, and once again Neville could hear himself saying them in the Room of Requirement. He shook his head as if to get rid of some troublesome Doxy.

'There's two DA members who've already had terrible things happen to them. Merlin knows where Luna is now – we know what the Death Eaters are capable of –' He fell silent, but Great-Uncle Algie wasn't fooled: Neville knew he had made it clear he was thinking of his parents.

'They'd be proud, son,' Great-Uncle said gruffly. 'And they wouldn't want you to give up.' He pushed out his chair and stood, pausing only for a second to muss up Neville's hair, as he always did when he didn't want to come across 'soft', as he called it. Without another word, he left the room, leaving Neville to mull everything over.


	12. Chapter 12: Whatever Happened to Michael

Oh dear god, I updated!

Sorry it's been such a long wait, everyone. I've been working on novels and short stories that, amazingly, are from my own mind, and not that of the brilliant J. K. Rowling. But I decided I needed a break from the hard work and so went back to building on the lovely world of Harry Potter that's already been made for us, and here's the result - Chapter Twelve!

Before you read on, I have an apology - someone pointed out that in the last chapter, I implied that Ron stayed at the Weasleys when he says in Deathly Hallows that he actually spent Christmas with Bill and Fleur. That was my mistake - I'm an idiot and didn't check the book before I uploaded the chapter. Assuming you're all happy for me to do so, I'm going to leave it as it is for now then upload a replacement chapter with the fixed mistake once I've finished the story.

And I WILL finish the story. I promise.

PS. I've also been asked to put in more Potterwatches, or at least put in the one they listen to in Deathly Hallows. I WON'T be putting that one in, as it won't add anything to my story - I would literally have to lift lines directly from JKR's book, which isn't what I want to do. But I'll slip in some excerpts from Potterwatch episodes, though I doubt I'll describe the characters listening to a full episode again.

PPS. I've allowed myself some artistic licence here. You might get angry with me, but Ginny's back at Hogwarts after Christmas, even though it says in the book that she doesn't come back... she'll bugger off at some point though, I promise.

PPPPPPPPPS. Lastly, I just want to thank everyone who takes the time to read this. I understand if I've lost a few readers, as it's been such a long time since I last updated (LoneElfFight pointed out that it's been almost a year - I'm so sorry about that everyone!), but I'd love it if I can grab you all back :) I'm shutting up now. Please enjoy the update!

**Chapter Twelve: Whatever Happened to Michael Corner?**

In Neville's first week back at Hogwarts, he received a Stinging Hex and another slash in his skin, this time on his right arm, for talking back to the Carrows in class. Both times, he noticed several of his classmates smiling appreciatively at him, but it was impossible not to see that they were unwilling to show overt resentment towards the Death Eaters anymore. Rumours of what had happened to Michael were abundant; he suspected Snape had fuelled some of them himself. Those who were not in the DA thought Michael's crime had been that of 'doing a Neville', the now accepted term for refusing to practice the Unforgivables on students in detention. Several people thought he had been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse, a thought that never failed to fill Neville with dread. Others had heard worse rumours: the story about the Carrows losing their wands had gotten out and that had led people to assume the Death Eaters had turned to Muggle methods of torture in order to punish Michael.

Neville himself knew for a fact that they had done that.

On returning to Hogwarts a few weeks ago, he had, along with Ginny and Seamus, taken advantage of the large crowd piling into the Great Hall and had disappeared off to the Hospital Wing. On the way there, Ginny and Neville had made their peace.

'I'm sorry I didn't listen to you,' Ginny said. She looked as though she had been in tears for the entire Christmas break. 'I wish Luna was here.'

'I know.' Seamus patted her awkwardly on the back as they made their way through the stone corridor. 'Things are... they're worse than I ever thought they'd get.'

'My family kept talking about how we might have to go into hiding. I wish we had.' Neville could hear Ginny's voice beginning to crack as she spoke. 'At least that way... I'd know they were all OK. It's so hard not knowing – not knowing where Luna is, not knowing where Hermione and – and Harry...'

In spite of himself, Neville jerked back and stared at her. In seconds, he had realised this was tactless and pulled himself together, but he was partially aware of his mouth still being slightly agape: for the first time since their first train journey back to Hogwarts in September, Ginny had broken the rule she had imposed on herself about saying Harry's name out loud.

It seemed she had realised it herself. She let out an alarming yowl and flung herself into Neville's arms.

'It isn't _fair_.' She put her head on his chest and sniffled, burying her face in his robes. Seamus patted her on the shoulder, and he mouthed at Neville over the top of her head, '_What do we do?_' Neither of them had ever expected Ginny to break down like this.

'Ginny, it's all right,' Neville said, taking her by the shoulders and looking directly into her eyes. 'There's no need to get like this. We've got to keep going. We're British.' He grinned at her, and thought he saw a half-hearted smile through the tears.

'Yeah, we carry on,' said Seamus with a wink.

Ginny gave another great sniff, wiping her nose on the back of her sleeve.

'Sorry, guys,' she said.

'What for?'

'For getting upset. Being stupid.'

'You're not being stupid.' Seamus gave her a squeeze. 'We all have our moments.'

'I don't see either of you two being a _girl_ about this,' said Ginny, staring at the floor.

They had reached the Hospital Wing. As they all sent nervous glances to each other, Ginny took a deep breath, raised her fist and knocked ever-so-quietly on the arched wooden door.

'She won't hear that,' whispered Seamus, eyes darting about for any sign of Snape or the Carrows. 'You need to knock harder.'

They all shifted awkwardly. The last thing they wanted was for their knocks to be heard by anyone besides Madam Pomfrey. What if the Carrows were lurking just out of sight, waiting for an excuse to come and carry them all off to the Slytherins for Cruciatus practice?

After a while, Neville plucked up the courage to give the door three brisk, sharp raps with his knuckles.

'Ouch,' he said afterwards, sure that he had gotten a splinter from the old, peeling door.

'Baby,' said Ginny, a small smile curving her lips.

The door creaked open just an inch, and a white-faced Madam Pomfrey peeked out, gasping when she saw them.

'What on earth are you three doing here?'

Ironically, the school nurse did not look well. She had always been charmingly plump, but her aged face was growing gaunt, with more lines than Neville remembered seeing on her up until now. Her peaked hat was lopsided atop her head, and her hair streaked with even more grey than usual. Worst of all was her expression: wide-eyed and trembling, Neville had never seen her look so afraid.

'You shouldn't be here,' she whispered, flapping her hand at them through the gap in the doorway that was so tiny it made her hand look disjointed. 'Go on - get on to the feast, before anyone misses you.'

'Madam Pomfrey, we just wanted to see -' Ginny piped up, but Madam Pomfrey overrode her, shaking her head.

'I don't want to hear it! I _know_ who you wanted to see. Go on, get on with you. It's far too dangerous for you to be sneaking around the castle like this - look at what happened to Michael!' She blanched, apparently realising what she had said.

'What _did_ happen to Michael?' Neville asked at once. Madam Pomfrey scowled.

'Nothing happened to him,' she said, through gritted teeth. 'Just a simple flying accident, that's all. This is a _school_, Mr. Longbottom, not some ridiculous conspiracy novel. Now, get along to the feast before your dinners get cold.'

She made to snap the door shut, but Ginny stuck her foot in it just in time.

'It wasn'ta flying accident. What _did _happen?' she demanded. 'Is he still here?'

Madam Pomfrey hushed them and, with a worried glance down at Ginny's foot in the doorway, relented and let them all inside.

The Hospital Wing was as eerily quiet as it had been on that bizarre time Neville had come in here before. It seemed Snape still did not deem the many injuries inflicted on his students by the Carrows worthy of being treated by Madam Pomfrey. Only one bed appeared occupied: the one in the corner beside the pompous portrait, the one in which Michael had lain, scarred and weirdly jovial, the last time they'd been here.

Madam Pomfrey gestured them towards Michael's bed, around which the curtains had been drawn again.

'Michael!' Ginny gasped as they all laid eyes on him.

His injuries had healed entirely. It was as though no grievance had ever come to him. Gone were the scars and the pus-filled grazes; his bandages had all disappeared. He was sitting up, a cushion between his back and the hard wooden headboard, a bowl of porridge propped in his lap as he gave them all weak smiles.

'Hi, everyone,' he said.

Ginny sat down on the end of his bed as Seamus and Neville knelt by his side, Madam Pomfrey closing the curtains around them all and disappearing, presumably, to her office. It was, Neville thought, a kindly move: she would get in trouble if she were found out, because students still were not allowed to liaise with each other in groups of more than two.

'You OK, mate?' Seamus asked eventually, when none of them had spoken for over a minute. What, after all, were they supposed to say to him?

Michael snorted.

'Yeah, I guess so.' He winced, rubbing the back of his neck. 'How were all your holidays?'

They glanced between each other, no one really wanting to relate their holiday events. It didn't seem right, when all they could do was remember how Michael had looked the last time they had come to visit him. After a few more seconds of agonising silence, Ginny leaned forward, a pleading look in her eyes.

'What did they do to you, Michael?' she whispered.

Michael didn't answer for a long time. His hands, previously holding his porridge bowl steady on his legs, now clenched into fists around the rim. In studying his face, Neville saw that the slight-figured Ravenclaw was curling his lip into a pained grimace, his jaw rigid, his eyes darkening.

'I don't want to talk about it.'

'Come on, Michael,' pressed Ginny, 'they've been telling us -'

'I said I don't want to talk about it!'

Ginny fell silent. Neville bit his lip, not knowing what to do or say. Beside him, Seamus lifted a nervous hand and start nibbling at his thumbnail, eyes downcast. None of them had ever heard quiet little Michael Corner snap at anyone like he had just done to them.

'OK,' said Neville quietly. 'You don't have to tell us if you don't want to. But we need to know what we're up against, Michael. We need to know what sort of danger the other students are in. We might have to shut the DA down.'

'You can't do that,' said Michael immediately. 'It's the only hope some of those kids have got left.'

'It's just a stupid kids' club,' said Neville, though he had never believed anything less.

'It's not!' declared Michael, suddenly sitting up straight so that bits of porridge splashed on to the bed covers. 'The DA stands for everything I believe in, and it's really important to a lot of us! It stands for courage, and friendship, and uniting together in the face of danger -'

In spite of himself, Neville had to suppress an amused smile. He was surprised Michael wasn't standing tall with his hand placed over his heart.

'Anyway,' finished Michael, looking sheepish at his own dramatic speech, 'you can't close the DA. Who's going to look after the first-years?'

His cheeks coloured as he said it. He had brought them all back to Ginny's question.

Neville leaned forward.

'Come on, Michael,' he said. 'Tell us what happened. Take your time. We know it's hard.'

Michael stared into his porridge, and Neville saw tears prick the corners of his eyes. His chin was trembling. He looked pathetic, his feet sticking out from under the bed-sheets, his big toe sticking out of a hole in his left sock. Neville wanted to reach over and hug him.

'OK,' he whispered. 'I'll tell you. It's not pretty.'

It was abhorrent. Neville could not believe what the Carrows had done: they had taken pliers and yanked Michael's toenails from his feet; they had pushed his legs into a fireplace and held them there as he screamed for them to stop; they had taken daggers and etched crude likenesses of the Dark Mark into the flesh of his upper arms, which, sniffling, he showed them, pulling back his sleeves so that they could see the raw, red, scarred flesh, healed over but still looking like it would kill to touch them. When his voice was hoarse from screaming, they had asked him who was in charge of Dumbledore's Army. He had not told them.

Neville, Ginny and Seamus were all staring at the floor by the time he had finished, embarrassed to meet his gaze. Each knew what the others were thinking.

'Blimey, Michael,' Seamus said in the ensuing silence. 'Blimey.'

'None of us could have done what you did, Michael,' Ginny said quietly. Neville drew a low breath. It had been exactly what he had wanted to say, but had been terrified to admit. 'None of us. I know I'd have given everyone up if I'd been going through that and -' She extended a hand to him. 'Thank you so much.'

White-faced, as though the retelling of the memories had brought back the pain of the many tortures inflicted upon him, Michael reached out and shook it.

Neville had never felt so indebted to anyone, not even Harry, as he did to Michael now. Overwhelmed with respect for the tiny Ravenclaw, he also offered his hand to him, as did Seamus. Wordlessly, Michael shook both of them.

'How the hell did they manage to cover all that up?' muttered Ginny. Her face was nearly as white as Michael's; it could've been her that had gone through all the things her ex-boyfriend had endured. 'How could they expect no one to see you?'

'They didn't touch the hands, or my face or anything,' said Michael. 'Well,' he continued as Ginny looked ready to interrupt,' they did, but they made it look like it could've been a flying accident, or a fall or something like that. All the burns, and the knives...' He fell silent, staring down at the ugly marks on his arms. 'They did all that on my body,' he said eventually.

Neville felt awful for making Michael share the story of his injuries with him. He muttered to Seamus, 'I think we should go,' and Seamus nodded fervently.

'We'll let you rest, Mike,' he said, standing and gesturing to Ginny to get up. 'Come on, Neville, Gin. We should nip up to our dormitories before everyone leaves the Great Hall.'

They all said their goodbyes as though they hadn't heard the foul tale which Michael had just related. Neville didn't know how he had the courage to smile, but smile their injured friend did, waving them off as Madam Pomfrey returned out of nowhere and ushered them to the door.

'I just want to say one thing,' Neville said to her before she could open it for them. He turned back to Michael, who looked expectantly at him. Neville sighed. 'You're a hero, Michael. A bigger hero than any of us. You're as great a hero as Harry, and he's saved my life before now. What you did... it's better than anything the whole DA put together has ever done.' His eyes slid to the floor. 'We're all so grateful to you.'

He didn't look, but he could imagine the expression on Michael's face. He heard a choked sob from where Ginny was standing behind him, and felt Seamus move to comfort her.

'Thanks, mate,' Michael said eventually, his voice sounding choked as well. 'You're a hero too, Neville. One of the greats.'

'I haven't done anything,' Neville muttered. 'I really haven't.'

When Neville was lying in his bed opposite that of a snoring Seamus, he thought of what had happened that evening, and the great thing Michael had done for them all. What he had told Michael was true: he could not think of a single thing he had done to merit his newfound position at Hogwarts. The entire DA looked to him for leadership, but he was yet to prove his worth. Nobody questioned his status - it was only his friendship with Harry that had given him the right to be there.

He didn't sleep that night. He just kept on staring into the darkness, wondering if being friends with a lost hero who might not even be alive anymore was really enough to put Neville in charge.


End file.
